WHAT THE TOMATOES SAID
We arrived in black bags filled with loam
and waited for them to come.
We had no idea of our destiny,
or what was to become of us.
We waited along the fence
in haphazard formation.
The sun rose to its zenith, and we wilted,
uprooted from the coolness of the garden,
we were awaiting adoption,
not knowing who would claim us,
or where we were going.
She found deep pots for us and gave us water.
After we recovered from the shock,
we began to grow, reaching for the sun.
She gave us gilded cages
where we could rest our heavy arms.
And we leaned in conversationally,
we blossomed, and then we fruited with gravitas.
At first, we were shy green orbs that swelled,
and then we doubled in size
with each new watering
until we were constellations,
until we were constellations,
or perhaps even planets.
And then we reached for the sun
and we became the fire of sunset.
We waiting for the cool green depths
And then we reached for the sun
and we became the fire of sunset.
We waiting for the cool green depths
of salad bowls rubbed with garlic
and dressed with olive oil. We glowed
like the glistening blood of rubies.
Summer's gift to those huddled
Summer's gift to those huddled
around their meager tables
waiting out the siege.
waiting out the siege.
8/5/20
THE CARROT SPEAKS
The carrot speaks of the night,
it speaks of the stars
glistening in the gloaming.
Once it was the color of darkness
but then it saw the sun for the first time
and the shape of its dreams
began to change to include the light.
And then it glowed with the tendrils
of the summer sun.
THE CARROT SPEAKS
The carrot speaks of the night,
it speaks of the stars
glistening in the gloaming.
Once it was the color of darkness
but then it saw the sun for the first time
and the shape of its dreams
began to change to include the light.
And then it glowed with the tendrils
of the summer sun.
