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.