Description: "I grew a lot of tomatoes one year, and the frost came seemingly early. I comitted a significant number to the deep freeze for future fry-ups and soup. This poem reflects my feelings at the time."
Early Frost -------------------------------------------
The first frost bites
hard on my tomatoes,
Like diamonds glistening
In the October air,
Scarce green from too short
a summer.
A bounty never reaped,
but perhaps in a soup
or fried,
It wont matter how they
died,
or the rows too wide.....
Your ending lines, "It wont matter how they died,
or the rows too wide....." speaks beyond tomatoes and certainly could be a metaphoric look at the little things in life that bother us more than necessary. I really enjoyed this poem and hope you have some fabulous soup/stew from those frozen tomatoes! :-) Sharon
Submission Name: Early Frost
