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, Posted On: 3/18/2008

Sharing First Figs in Your Backyard




Kindra McDonald

This poem first appeared in "Inner Voices," our Jan. 15,2008 Poetry issue, but was printed with the wrong photo.

You do not bite a fig so much as kiss one.

It melts tender on the tongue and makes you blush.

How you lean into it,

How you meet it from tree to hand to mouth,

Plucked ripe, soft pregnant swells of purple

Parachutes gently given unto lips.

How sweetness bursts in your mouth

Caresses your speech, makes it foreign to the ears,

Summersaults and winds its way to your throat

Where you swallow all its ancient ripeness,

Its bursting pureness,

Its deep full tongued maturity,

The syrup of ready.

The leaves shade their eyes from this romance,

Such intimacy makes them tremble.

 

Photo by Kathy Keeney

 

 

KINDRA MCDONALD is a transplant from the DC area and a graduate of Virginia Wesleyan College. She has tried her hand at many different jobs and is currently a government contractor with the Coast Guard.She is a triathlete,a potter,a poet and avolunteer and advocate for public radio.Currently McDonald is fi nishing her fi rst full-length manuscript and is in search of an MFA program to continue her lifelong love and addiction to poetry. When she is not pondering if cuttlefi sh love more with three hear ts or fi guring out how to include fi gsin a recipe,McDonald can be found writing in Norfolk and reading all over the Seven Cities.Her work hasbeen published in VWC Review, Stirring Magazine, Artemis Journal and Skipping Stones.

 

Comments:
Friday, October 30, 2009 9:31:19 PM by Anonymous
Quite sexy. You spoke to my footballs
Thursday, May 08, 2008 9:24:47 PM by Anonymous
Wow, Kindra! What a beautifully juicy poem! Barb
Tuesday, March 04, 2008 12:04:15 PM by Anonymous
Quite the naughty metaphor, Miss Kindra. But who's complaining. Very nice ending.
Monday, January 21, 2008 1:12:47 PM by Marla S
Beautiful imagery this takes me right back to the fig trees in my grandma's back yard.

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