Ripe Figs, Mustard Greens, and Dance

Rum and Robots

Prose by Joni Caggiano 02/02/21 – Photograph of Beautiful Fig Tree by Daniel Watson


lamenting for a taste of fresh figs from childhood trees where, when dipped in sugar,
they left a fragrant and honeyed flavor upon a young girl’s tongue

seeing elephant ears surrounding the outdoor porch where mom would set a table

smelling black-eyed peas cooked with salt pork, mustard greens, and collards

fried hush puppies with onions and garlic, decorating the table with fresh wildflowers

mom wiping her hands on her ruffled apron smiling as she observed her beloved family

crickets singing from outside the house and inside
where mama placed potatoes for the nightly songbirds of the south, as it helped her sleep for dreams haunted her too

fireflies dancing for our dinner’s entertainment as we ate till our bellies were full

as the ice was dropping more often in mom and dad’s glasses, I…

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