The Tomatoe
Outside, the warm spring invites me,
wanting to get back to my roots.
I wait for the rains to let up.
I go out in the warm sunshine
to turn up the rich black soil.
I sow the pods of life,
gingerly placed here and there.
I wait patiently.
Slowly, one by one
the sprouts peek out,
tender young seedlings
eeking out their own domain.
Daily, I check their progress
waiting for the prize.
Eventually, weeks later,
my trembling fingers
wrap around the
plump red fruit.
My mouth waters in anticipation.
Inside, I gently wash away the soil.
Once cut evenly into steak sized slices,
a little salt and finally the first
salty, sweet delicious treat.
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