Figs

All winter we anticipated the figs

Three years ago
Woody planted two fig trees
Trees, he warned,
(My tree experienced husband)
Weep the first year
Creep the second year
Leap the third year

And our fig trees leapt
For joy
This year

Last year, one tree gave us
A few juicy figs
Plum rich, wildly satisfying
On our dinner table
Our mouths remembered that taste
As we watched our leaping trees
Bud out, we saw those infant figs
And our mouths coveted their musty sweetness

But our trees could not evade
The pirate birds
With light bodies, strong wings
Sharp beaks, gripping feet
And a taste for ripening figs

We hung sparkly twists of metal
We got a dog
Long legged, deep bark
Beautiful white
Squirrels and rabbits
Run before her
Deserting, finally, the banquet
Of our summer vegetable garden

But oh those birds
Those beautiful pirate birds
Who feast on our figs
Laugh down at our dog
Laugh among our sparkly hangers
Laugh with their bellies
Full of young figs

While our mouths salivate
In vain anticipation
Of the never to be
Ripe figs on our dinner table

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