Too Many Tomatoes: A Poem

 

Too Many Tomatoes

Alone now, my mother
Is like my Polish grandmother.
She is growing
Too many tomatoes.

A six pack starter kit.
Two plants dry up.
She buys another six pack.

Now ten plants occupy
A very straight row,
Mounted against steel poles.

Now growing strong
With bits of egg shell
Spotting the soil.

Now tied up with torn strips
Of white sheets,
Yellow blossoms form.

Now bright red tomatoes
Hang heavy, vines droop.
Too many tomatoes.

I am there for her and the harvest.

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