My window sill proudly displays

A grove of tomato plants

That welcome Winter’s sunlight rays

With eagerness, green elegance.


These seedlings sprouted from a fruit

Purchased at the grocery.

Each seed launched in pursuit

Of root and stem, leaf tracery.


March light sees stems weak and thin,

The tender leaves are tentative,

Conforming to growth’s discipline.

Fragile, representative.


Still much snow sits out there

Bleeding slowly into Spring,

Icing up in night’s cold air.

My plants await what time will bring.


They dream of June with sultry days

Where green displaces Winter’s white

When skies glow blue, away from grays,

And hungry leaves gobble light.


The stems by then, knobbed and thick

Will bear the still green rounded fruit,

Orange tinged, too young to pick,

Intense in skills to transmute.


Transmute the message from the sun,

Whisper it in water’s ear

Command the soil its will be done,

Speak to air, loud and clear.


At last, at Fall, the pregnant globes

Now package ingenuity

Of evolution in red robes –

Tomato perpetuity.





One thought on “Tomatoes

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s