Sad for the departure of home-grown tomatoes ...
QUEEN KONG TOMATO
Big red marbles,
burnished black,
ripened on Caroline’s washer.
Cherokee Purple Tomatoes,
she said.
I picked the last
before frost.
before frost.
The next spring,
Caroline’s gift:
a tiny plant,
started from seed.
Even I
could grow
cherry tomatoes.
The cast iron pot
in the front yard
welcomed the newcomer.
She spread out,
made herself at home,
put down roots.
I never expected
her Jack in the Beanstalk
trunk,
that I propped with a basket
and a lattice
and a broom stick.
Or a tomato
as big as a grapefruit.