Wild figs

gathered in handfuls,
juggled like hot coals
figs hotter than the blistering day.

Sliced they erupt red molten cores.
I eat fire in greedy gulps, gorge on stars,
know no tomorrow.

This poem was inspired by a trip to Greece. From my accommodation I could walk into the garden and down to the sea where several fig trees were laden with fruit. It was such a treat to gather my own breakfast every morning, and I eventually had to write about it. It seems to me that there was something much profounder in the simple experience of gathering fruit and eating than I could have imagined without experiencing it.