15 5 / 2013

Re-shot my video for the Write Bloody contest with the help of my photographer mother.

Winning this contest and having a book of poetry published would mean the absolute world to me & be a total dream come true.

Please ‘like’ and share the video to help me achieve that dream.

Here is the text of the poem:

Sweet One Hundreds

A season has come and gone without you.

I have taken my grandfather to buy tomato plants
since I left you.

He has planted the tomato plants
and fertilized them and watered them
since then.

I did not have to remind him to turn off the hose.

Some things you don’t forget even though
they are less important than the things you do forget.

My grandmother has asked about you every twenty minutes
for the sixteen hours that I am with her each week
for the four months that you have not been a part of my life.

I have gotten better at reminding her that we are not together
but it still stings every time she asks if I think you might have been
afraid of commitment.

The tomatoes have grown since I left you.
My grandparents have gone out to pick them each day.
They did not ask me to help until late in the summer,
when I did and felt bad to see rotted tomatoes on the ground
that they had missed because their eyesight is poor now.

I felt responsible for the rotting of the tomatoes
and the enjoyment my grandmother would have gotten out of eating them
but didn’t.

I missed you.

I went to the garden every day that I could after that

I missed you.

I rescued Sweet One-Hundreds that had fallen from the vine
and lay in the dirt where they would have rotted.

The Big Boys and the Rutgers tomatoes stopped coming
as it got colder.

I found less and less Sweet One Hundreds on the ground.

I picked my grandmother the few zinnias that had bloomed
and replaced the old ones in the vase on the kitchen table,
which she could not tell were dead.

You called me sometimes while I was setting their table for dinner
or while we were watching the news.

I would tell my grandmother that you had called
and she would ask if I thought maybe we would get back together.
I don’t remember when I stopped saying ‘I don’t know’
and started telling her we would not.

And she would ask if I thought maybe you had a fear of commitment
and it would still sting.

And she will ask again next week
and it will still sting.

And there is no need to check for Sweet One Hundreds anymore
as it has gotten colder.

And I have realized that a season has come and gone
since I left you.

And another season has begun without you
and it will end without you and another will begin
and so on.

And if we plant tomatoes next year,
I will go and look for ripe ones as often as I can

because I don’t want to find them red on ground
rotted and wasted
and know that I am responsible.

And I miss you but I am coming to terms
with the idea that you will still not be there next summer

or the summer after that,

even if I have learned not to let things rot.

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  3. veronicahzapata reblogged this from thedustdancestoo and added:
    Beautiful poem!! 😥 Very touching…love it ✌❤😘
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