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because I craved their taste

he made us a garden

because I told him about Jersey tomatoes

and waxed effusive over the sweet near purple meat

and its ample bursting bumps

and tart smooth thin skin

and the way I add a little bit of salt

to crystallize its sweetness

he made us a garden

yes oh yes yes the Jersey tomato

some say fruit some say vegetable

but tomatoes are the berry of a nightshade plant

and people were once afraid to eat them

but a legendary Camden County man

called them love apples

and he bit in and didn’t die

I told him all this last August at a produce stand

while I was picking through bushel baskets

to find an elusive midafternoon snack

to find the perfect unbruised backyard berry

they don’t grow anywhere else

just one step over the Hudson River

just an inch over the Pennsylvania border

and it loses its character its flavor

and you won’t find them in supermarkets

they just come from a neighbor’s garden

and because I was shut in at work all day

I didn’t see my neighbors much

less and less every year

so every year I hoped for co-workers

to offer me zucchini and tomatoes

from the bulging brown paper bags they bring

because their plants grew too well

he lived in the city for most of his life

but he lives here now

he’s not from around here

but everyone knows him now

he’s allergic to fresh tomatoes

but this year he made us a garden

and we started thinking about hot sauce

and sweet sauce and salsa and soup

and my own brown paper bags to take to work

but we never made a garden before

and I was so afraid the tomato plants

would die that we bought seventeen

delicate two-inch seedlings

five different varieties

perched in tiny soil-filled pots

and he fearfully carefully made love in the earth

and he fretted over the planting and the weather


because someone told me tomatoes like to be near basil

he planted herbs near their wire cages

because someone told me marigolds attract bees

and ward off unseen insect evils

he planted yellow flowers around the perimeter fence

and someone told me lime and peat moss and plant food

and hoe and aerate and water and and

and he did and he did and he did and

up they came after the rain

up they came lush and leafy and tall


he grew us a glorious green garden

but someone told me watch out for too much sun

leaf blight and boring insects that lay their eggs in stems

and those birds and the rabbits and too much water

and he did and he did and he did and

out they came following the little white blossoms

out they came green and glowing

and the days got hotter and hotter

and the end of July humidity hung on and on


and I was looking out the window

watching the perspiration bead up on his back

while he once again tended to the weeding

I said look I can see them from here

look how tall and full they are

look look what a wonderful thing you’ve done

look look look I see a red one near your arm

and then he saw me framed by the kitchen window

he saw me through the sticky stems and smiled

he stopped for a moment

he surveyed the yard and my brow

the rainstorms made them grow

he told me blinking away salty sweat

yes I said oh yes yes my love

and look look look my love

the heat of the sun made them ripe

the nightshade that makes love apples

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