This year
the tomatoes are abundant
heirlooms, all
thin, leggy, sweet protruding ribs
they escape imposed constraints
run amok, parade
above, beyond, below
the wood and wire homes
we forced them into
—
This year
the tomatoes are abundant
confit’d, pasted, sauced and pasta’d
— a few were lost to possums and raccoons —
brought indoors by baskets-full
they adorn my countertop
emanating promise despite
the clinging flies
This year
the tomatoes are abundant
here, there, nearly
everywhere
except Gaza
and perhaps Kyiv
I spend a lot of time in the garden, cultivating edibles, herbs, annuals and perennials that attract birds and pollinators. Our current city lot is the smallest plot of land we’ve ever owned, but it is just as full of life, wild and otherwise, as the many acres we’ve cared for before.
Every time I pull into the drive I’m greeted by some array of bees and butterflies, finches, grosbeaks, hummers, juncos, mourning doves, ravens, shrikes, sparrows, towhees and titmice and the occasional Cooper’s hawk or kestrel.
Lucky to live in a coastal community, I keep doors and windows open most of the time in order to hear their goings-on. Rarely are they quiet. I’ve only twice had to coax an adventurous bird back outdoors. (And twice the hungry raccoon who ventured through the dog door in the night!)
I’ve always considered myself a creator — just check out my bio: “I write, I paint, I grow things and cook them” — so witnessing destruction, whether nearby, virtually or from afar, feels like blow to my soul. I am at once compelled to share what I have, what I can; and I must create to help balance the universal scales.
How do you manage?
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This past week I had a BLT with heirloom tomatoes at a cafe in SF. It was the best BLT I’d ever had and this smart poem brought me back there and then turned me around as witness to the places where there aren’t tomatoes growing right now and people are hungry. So powerful.
Kim, I appreciate your poem for what it shows about the present moment and its abundance. what is better than a juicy tomato sandwich? You know me, I’m always focusing on the smallest nuances of the microseason that we are in right now. And I do this because I feel like it’s where I have the most power to affect change in my life. When I think about the situation in Gaza, Ukraine, and even the atrocities happening here, I can feel overwhelmed, depressed, and powerless to be of service. But focusing in tighter on this present moment, I realize that I have countless chances to stay in a caring mindset. This is where there is always more love, greater understanding, beauty to be noticed and so much good work to do. Especially as I work one on one with patients and alongside my teammates. I think writing is so important too, as a way to offer new framing and more spacious ways of thinking. Word work matters— thank you for this poem! xo