Tomatoes in November

by John Morrison

this one
jaundice yellow
maybe this one
make it to red

these others
shiny green like Christmas bauble
did puncture my black soil
too late for ripeness

no red for them

yet I make room
range green grenades
along my window sash
though I well know
November sun  pale  thin
can detonate no red

look how they sit there
proud like princes
burst full of green
seed and juice
and flesh and gloss

this white sash I make altar

worship their green cockiness
worship their green swagger
worship their green ammunition
green no journey
green their glory

oh I do envy them
all ignorant
of sag and wither
know just one thing
know just this green
this unexploded now