By Christine Swanberg
Author and Poet
As summer brings its harvest to farmers’ markets, here is a poem that looks at that from a different point of view.
Instead of Destiny
Destiny is the seed deep within the secret
revealed when colors and textures can be discerned
through the speckled lens of time’s wide aperture.
Of seeds, shapes, and textures:
how about those heirloom tomatoes?
Cheyenne blacks, golden pineapple, fuzzy peach, green-striped —
the bulbous and beautiful aborigines of the farmers’ market.
Destiny arrives in slices, succulent, juicy glimpses
of patterned purpose, metered messages from whatever
Mercury you tango with.
This is just to say
I have sliced the heirloom tomatoes
that you bought at the farmers’ market today.
No need to forgive me.
There’s plenty left for you.
So sweet with just a little salt.
Destiny is like a secret heirloom that hides in plain sight
in the dark attic you climb to one winter day.
You say, O my. What’s this?
I have the perfect place for you.
O my. I set out to write a poem all about destiny.
The urgent heirloom tomatoes slivered in instead.
First published in Minotaur. Also published in The Alleluia Tree.
Christine Swanberg is a local author and poet. She received the Lawrence E. Gloyd Community Impact Award at the 2012 Rockford Area Arts Council State of the Arts Awards.
Posted July 16, 2014