Week of the Figs and Peaches

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First the long wait:
trees stubborn in their stasis,
only buds, only
promises unyielding to the squeeze.
Then –
overnight almost!
an abundance attracting the birds,
the sun.
Come to their trees and find them burst open,
drinking in the light,
or the semi-spoiled meal of toddlers pecking on passing by.
Neglect for a minute and ripeness turns to rotting;
at the right time, they will drop
at your fingers’ lightest touch.
Too much; preserve what you can,
before the thieves of beak and day render worthless
on your watch.

Published by Matthew Pullar

Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.

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