Tomatoes, by Joy Sullivan (2024)

        I waited so long for love

        and suddenly, here it is

        standing in the garden, hands full

        of heirlooms hot from the sun.

                    Soon we'll make a supper of them.

                    alted slabs between slices of bread.

                    Your beard silvers. My hips ripen.

                    The mail piles up.

                                        Phone calls go unanswered. Forgive us.

                                        Our mouths are full of tomatoes.

                                        We are so busy

                                        being small and hungry and alive.