Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
A fig tree grows in a back yard in West Seattle. The splayed waxy leaves span the air. A few green unripe figs are developing. Hard to spot, but there none the less If we do have sun, the fruit will ripen to a dark shoe polish brown. Let's assume birds do not pluck at the figs, saving the crunchy seeds for us to savor and worry our tongue some lazy afternoon.
0
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 9:19 AM UTC
A Fig Tree Grows
A fig tree grows in a back yard in West Seattle. The splayed waxy leaves span the air. A few green unripe figs are developing. Hard to spot, but there none the less If we do have sun, the fruit will ripen to a dark shoe polish brown. Let's assume birds do not pluck at the figs, saving the crunchy seeds for us to savor and worry our tongue some lazy afternoon.
Written by
Seattle Washington.
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 9:19 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem