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My summer pursuit of a wondrously succulent

perfectly tasty homegrown tomato has so far yielded

only close seconds and I, eager and desirous, move

from stall to stall at the Farmer’s Market, bag in hand

relentlessly seeking, searching, oh yes that’s right

I am a seeker a pilgrim in search of that Holy Grail of the garden

a perfect orb of delectability misshapen or blemished about to burst

yellow pink or red exotic varietal heirloom or solid predictable standby

no matter at all to me you farmers you gardeners just serve me up

a sweet acidic meaty juicy yum of tomato and I will hand over my dollars.

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