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Lines Composed While Watching My Mother Buy Tomatoes

I want to die laughing next to you. I do.
You’re wrong, you’re all wrong, the sky is blue because.
The plants are watered green because.
That silver hair on your head,
             so many impossible strands!
Good morning, my sense of taste & wonder.
Today I feel like pineapples on sale.
My flesh devastatingly raw & still sweet,
breathing deep with Sunday lungs.
The first bite of fresh tomato, sliced & seasoned.
A bowl of salsa we eat in the kitchen, standing up.
This poem appeared in Issue 2 of DEAR Poetry Journal, 2021. Shared here with deep gratitude.

10.09.2026

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