Bill Maceachern Poet Narrative

Tomato Chase

TOMATO CHASE

Now....
Out of season
They're reddish
Uniform in size & shape
Firm
And flavorless

In season
They're RED
All sizes and shapes
Firm, soft, some just right
And flavorful

Yesteryears
They were magic
Like the transformation of a caterpiller
The little yellow flower
Gives way to the tiny green marble
Stalk n stems grow bigger
Marbles grow larger
The green fuzzy rough stems
The scent
That wonderful smell 
So unique to the tomato plant
They turn green to red
Some even get incubated on a sunny sill 
When it's time
Knife reveals seeds and red splotched juice
And the TASTE
A taste that fades with our age
That TASTE that we chase every summer
Close 
But never a ringer

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Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart March 21, 2019 at 4:58 PM This is great! And oh so apt. Bill Maceachern March 21, 2019 at 5:20 PM Thank You Maureen, yes, tge time is near here in New England, nothing like a good ole tomato sandwich with mayo