Tomatoes, by Joy Sullivan (2024)

I waited so long for love

and suddenly,                      here it is

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.