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.
Notes
No better way to kick this month off than by this poem by Joy Sullivan. The poem sinks into the sun-warmed, heavy flesh of August, where simple food and shared presence turn a humble garden yield into an unhurried banquet. It grounds August's theme of Feast, showing that abundance isn't found in grand, distant spectacles, but in the ripe, sensory joy already sitting on our kitchen counters. By celebrating the messy, tangible weight of being fully present, the poem reminds us that to feast is simply to let ourselves be nourished by the sweetness right in front of us. . #poetry #feast #tomato #summer #abundance