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.
