Fig tree
From the house near its southern wall.
A fig tree sprouted from the window on the upper floor.
She set out to collect every ray of light.
The host is not at home.
Ivy covered the window beams.
It climbs slowly.
Who knows how long it will take to reach the roof?
He needs more time.
A grumpy bramble came out of the main door.
It stands in anger like the owner of a house and doesn’t let inside.
A bunch of blackberries hangs from his hands.
A pomegranate stands in front of him like a guest who has just arrived,
branched and decorated with red buds.
Waiting for it to bloom.
The day rise.
The host is not at home.