Four Perfect Figs – a poem by Jane Greer

Four Perfect Figs
For Norann
Because she spies them on the tree,
because she knows he loves them,
she plucks and lays them on his desk
when he is out of the room.
The solid facts of the world are war,
pestilence, fear, and war,
yet no less solid is the fact
of perfect figs laid there.

Jane Greer founded Plains Poetry Journal, an advance guard of the New Formalism movement, in 1981, and edited it until 1993. She is author of the poetry collection Love like a Conflagration (Lambing Press, 2020), and her next collection, The World as We Know It Is Falling Away, will be published this fall, also by Lambing Press. She lives in North Dakota.

1 Comment

  1. Kristy Snedden says:

    I love your poem and how it says so much in so few words. Beautiful!

    Liked by 1 person

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