Poem about Nourishment, following Heidi Kindon’s prompt.  I feel like this is part of something I have been working to say for years, and it feels like it still needs a lot of finessing, but I am so grateful for the prompt that caused me to put it down:

Feed me.
Let me savor
the pith and the pulp
of a fresh garden tomato.

You can talk to me
about lycopene
and anti-oxidants,
about minerals
and vitamins,
and that will make me
giddy.

But the names
have their own kind
of nourishment:
Sungold
Cosmonaut Volkov
Brandywine
Early Girl
Cherokee Purple
Garden Peach
Indigo Rose
Green Zebra
San Marzano
Mr. Slabaugh
Goldie
Mountain Princess

Tiny little golden orbs,
bite-sized,
and great juicy giants,
crimson and scarlet,
buttery yellow
and deep midnight purple.

Talk to me about
the sun, how each tomato
is born of the light,
how the mother plant
spins those rays
and weaves them,
with raindrops
and the tiny crystals
that it draws from
the earth,
how it weaves them all together
into one magical bundle
to feed me.

 

Prompt for today (Monday):

I finished last night’s poem this morning, so the prompt is for today.  Stephanie White suggested the theme of Lost and Found.  What do you think?  Care to join me?  I am thinking of a couple of tankas or something similarly terse. . .  We’ll see where it goes.

 

Gratitude List:
1.  Rich conversations with friends: seeds and secrets, ancestors and our children.  All woven together.
2.  Two boys snuggling with each other on the recliner chair (30 seconds–I’ll take it)
3.  Rain and fog and mist
4.  Desire
5.  Rhythm

May we walk in beauty.