Our fig tree will make it through winter
With the help of a neat little trick
Or else it will have to dash indoors
Before winter gives it a lick
*
The first time we buried our fig tree
Uncertain that it would survive
Was October, weeks before winter
And the fig tree was still much alive
*
We covered her up with earth matter
Top soil and leaves and some twigs
And buried her into the garden
In hopes that next spring we’d have figs
*
All winter we looked through the window
At the spot where the fig tree once stood
Hoping she’d survive the cold weather
With ice, snow and soil for a hood
*
In May we uncovered her branches
Lifted her out of her trench
So shocked by her clear resurrection
We sat ourselves down on a bench
*
This winter has been a tough business
The snow is determined to fall
And just when I think it is over
I find it’s not finished at all
*
Snow stands in piles out my window
Blows in when I open my door
It sticks to my shoes like a layer
And deposits itself on my floor
*
The fig tree and I are both immigrants
From lands that are sunny and bright
Though fig did not come here willingly
While I chose this country so white
*
But fig will be sheltered this winter
Protected and ready to bear
While I slip and slide on the sidewalk
And try to pretend I’ve no fear.
Original Photos by Hamlin Grange
Cynthia Reyes 