The red tomato

I see a red tomato hanging like a Christmas bulb in my next-door neighbor’s yard. Every one else is green. She stands out strong like a woman in a red dress on a night out. She’s tall in her heels, tall on her vine looking down on every one. She’s juicy and she knows it.

I’d like to tip toe over like a small goblin in the rain, the mist rain that’s falling today on this sleepy-weather Sunday and go pluck her and steal her away from next door. I have fresh mozzarella, spicy green basil, balsamic vinegar and it’s lunchtime.

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6 Responses to The red tomato

  1. Page Loudon says:

    Do it. Take it. I would. And I wouldn’t mind if you took one from my garden. Some things are just meant to be.

  2. rachvb says:

    I found one in the fridge. Not quite the same as the vine stiletto one, but less sneaky. I’m not a very good goblin. Thank you for your tomato offering – if I’m ever in Seattle I’ll have to sneak into your garden and pluck one to take home with me. =)

  3. Love the images and the wished-for stealth. Who wouldn’t gladly surrender to this imagination?

  4. rachvb says:

    The tomato, maybe? I was going to eat her. =)

  5. I think the tomato might consider your eating her a privilege and a fine way to go! L, C

  6. rachvb says:

    Well no doubt she would have been delish…I think she’s still there, but the lady next door is old and my landlord’s mother, so I think I’ll leave it be…
    oh I can dream!

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