figs

tonight I ate a fig
it was a deep purple colour
balancing between maroon and burgundy
and somewhere in there
a night sky velvet
streaked with green
the promise of ripening
flecked and freckled

split in half
an opening far too physical
skin tearing softly like a staggered moan
the inside
a soggy cluster of seeds
is a soft, fresh pink
with maybe a hint of something
warmer
something more sultry
a blushing, flushing red

Pemberton #4

Driving down that long and dusty road into town
we stopped at a lavender farm
and ate pancakes by the lake
beautiful women wearing hats
sitting next to a lemon orchard
heavy and sagging with
ripe butter yellow citrus
we wove deftly between trees
with laughter
three nimble lemon thieves

summer #5

summer is for
Gemma's gardening hands
dirt underneath her nails
'only the ocean can wash my hands clean now'
summer is for too many walnuts
and arms laden with sunflowers

some dreams 3

I dream warmly and richly

and wildly

sweet and thick and consuming

like honey

i dream and

it surrounds me

and i ache

and its beautiful