'Twas a dark and gusty night. The fig shivered in its fibreglass pot on the tartop roof of a brownstone in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, New York, The World.
A South African howled.
Small American children whimpered in their beds. Summer was coming. Green days of sea and sand and lawns of grass and parents who never said no. But first there was May to get through. The month of fig leaf sprouting. The rustling on rooves. The forming of furry leaves. The popping of embryonic fruit through grey bark. Nurture versus nature.
Better leave the night light on.
Nice story! Leave the light on, the figs will stop shivering.
ReplyDelete....Werefigs of Brooklyn?
ReplyDeleteToday's weather was so not May.
ReplyDeleteLike late August, front passed thru.
Hazy moons call for wolves.