Wednesday, February 3, 2016

A Poem by Heather Gelb

Summer Figs

She sits like a sack of potatoes
On the bare back of her horse,
Relaxed, face turned to the sun.
Thin white hairs cling to her jeans.
She brushes a strand of thick hair
From her eyes, and sees
A small boy with hair and freckles
That radiate warmth.
He stands in a patch of
Trampled grapes and
Holds out hands stained with
Hours of playtime.
In each hand is a fig,
Plump from a season of sun and rain.
She accepts his gift,
Savoring the burst of sweetness
While her horse licks the sticky fruit
From the boy's hand.
The boy retreats to his tree,
The girl and horse follow curiosity over the next hill.
Their smiles of summer linger in the air.

Heather Gelb loves moving through nature -- by foot, bike and horse.  She aspires to be a poet, tap dancer, long distance runner, banjo player, holistic nutritionist and photographer.  She has published poems and short stories in various online and written journals, and is currently finishing her memoir of her spiritual journey from Ohio to Rwanda to Israel.

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