Poetry and Tomatoes

So I haven't posted much in the last several months, but my garden has been growing.  It has been neglected as usual, but I don't think quite as much as some past years, weeds still grow, and things aren't always harvested as quickly as I would like, but in general I have been to my garden fairly regularly and been harvesting things fairly well.  Tonight I picked some kale, yellow beans, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, zucchini, and one red tomato - more to come soon hopefully.  But in reflection I wrote a special little something for my own soul.  Hopefully it is not too boring.  And so you know, it is only written in phrases to reflect what I was reading and thinking, it makes no claims of poetry, it is merely reflection.

Poetry and Tomatoes 

An odd combination.

but this evening found me reading poetry

lines written by a friend

giving me pleasure and sadness all together

and so - with melancholy 

I sat down to weed

My garden told of much neglect

for here I go and there I run

so little time for here and now

just as the poem said it 

“Life was in a rush, now

there is no hurry - only time”

so as the garden filled with weeds

where was I?

what else went unseen, untouched, undone,

unsaid, unthought, unvisited

here I sit in my garden pulling at the weeds,

picking at the harvest, 

thoughts going beyond the rush

beyond the unseen, untouched, undone

to the unthought, unsaid, unvisited

and yet again to the undone

Yet there it hangs

that one tomato

the one that has left the green behind

and changed to red

not just any red tomato

but a cherished one

one from my special plant 

the one put there for purpose of remembrance 

my Anna Russian

and so those words of poetry drive me to hope

hope to look for beauty

hope to bring someone joy and smiles

hope to leave a mark worth following

poetry 

and 

the red tomato.

an excerpt from Anna Drags-Stick-Behind-Her 

“Perhaps one will leave a mark

less transient than I, 

a silver thread

for someone else to follow - 

or perhaps just a bit of beauty

to decorate the world

before it melts away

or it is erased by the tide.”