Tomatoes

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.

Salted 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.