Figs and vinaigrette tears
I tried not to taste the bitterness of the fig
as I peeled the fuzzy skin free,
and suckled it's insides
like eating raw fire with
But I did
and spat the seeds called loss
in a garden gone barren
and wondered will they grow?
I tried not to taste the vinaigrette tears
that rolled down my cheek,
to those charred lips
or think about seeds, and loss, and friends, and death....
but life is bitter
and loss is part of it
as a respirator keeps my bloodline fresh
and words free my anchor, my rock, my kindred
Figs and vinaigrette tears
loss and life without rewind












Perhaps I shall try again. I miss you and I worry about you and yours. 



17 old applause
