My heart aches
to be like you, plump, wet
and delicious. You hang
in the dizzy sun,
ready to burst open,
red hot mama, never mind
the blues, this is joy
travelling round my tongue,
kicking up its heels.
The wait, the long summer evenings
of watering, now given over
to indulgence, mouth pleasure.
Who imagines such wilderness
in a tomato?
Copyright 2000, Mercedes Lawry
Mercedes Lawry has been publishing poetry for twenty-three years in
such magazines as Fine Madness, Seattle Review, Madison
Review, Hawaii Pacific Review and Switched-on Gutenberg.
She's received an Artist Trust GAP Grant and a residency at Hedgebrook.
She has also published stories for children.
Switched-on Gutenberg/Vol. 4, No. 2