One of the toughest things about leaving the big smoke
was leaving the old fig tree in our backyard,
just as all the fruit was about to ripen.
I've been thinking a lot about that tree.
Wondering if the new tenants have discovered it
and the sweet delectable treasures.
Then, last week, my husband discovered a big ol' fig tree,
at the back of a vacant lot in the heart of town,
groaning under the weight of delicious ripe fruit.
We've been visiting there often,
scrambling through the overgrown garden
to feast on the endless supply.