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Irrepressible Tomato
Michael Berkowitz
that irrepressible
tomato
so thickly sliced and juicy
oozed love all over a shmeer of cream cheese,
painted with a palette knife, making a canvas
of her pumpernickel
Millie's simple garden grew such things
it was an amazing garden
where books grew
like daffodils
and daffy definitions sprouted
in her Herb garden
children grew there,
danced there, too
planted with ideas and aspirations,
creativity and laughter that slowly melted
like her sweet swirly berry ice cream
if there ever were gardens
whose scents and sensibilities
flourish in my memories
it was those two
I was one of the lucky few
to have wandered there
those backyard summers
of perpetual dreaming and
adolescent insensitivity
I have been to many beautiful gardens
but none where I have flourished amongst its flowers.
I admire their arrangements, orchids and such,
but that long-ago laughter is missing,
and I wander lonely through them.
I have seen paintings by Monet of his gardens.
I have never been there, but I would surely sacrifice
that tourist's pleasure
if for just one sliver of a second I could be transported back
to Millie's and her Herb garden,
and laugh together with you
in that summer sunlight.
one last time.
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