If We All Wrote and Read Poetry

In my ideal world, everyone would read poetry and everyone would write poetry, and as a result, we would all be more sensitive, thoughtful, considerate, appreciative, and whole.  ---Scott Owens

Scott Owens is one of my very favorite poets. I like this quote by Scott because I agree. Poets are sensitive to everything they encounter. They appreciate even the small things they see and the people who are often not seen. 

Scott says we should be observant and notice everything. He certainly does.

Tomato Man

 by Glenda Beall

Ruby tomatoes in small tan baskets

beg me to buy my lunch. Overalled

and raisin brown, he sits slumped

on the tailgate of a rusty red pickup,

his floppy hat a shade against the burning sun.

 

Will the two-dollar baskets buy

groceries to take home to the waiting

wife who helped him pick the plump fruit?

Or will he go by Bernie's Quik Stop

buy a six-pack or two, and cigarettes

that stain his teeth, tar his lungs?

 

He thanks me for my business, but his faded

eyes belie a mind that's somewhere else.

Today takes care of today. Tomorrow

he'll be here again, the tomatoes

redder, softer, a few fresh ones

sprinkled in, to appeal to people

who smile and speak,

but never see him.

This poem won first place in the Clay County Poetry Contest many years ago.

Winner of First Place in Clay County Arts Poetry Contest 1997

When we first moved to the mountains, in this rural area, we were delighted to find a man who sold fresh tomatoes off his truck. He parked by the lake near our home. We loved tomatoes. Nearly every day we stopped and bought tomatoes from this man. We began to call him the tomato man. This poem was one of the first poems I wrote after moving here fifteen years ago. I entered the poem in the annual poetry contest sponsored by the Clay County Historical and Arts Council. To my delight, the poem won first place and I was asked to read it the night of the award ceremony.
Several years later, I was honored to be asked to judge this contest, and that night I read a number of my poems. I hope you enjoy this poem and let me know what you think.



Tomato Man


Ruby tomatoes in small tan baskets
beg me to buy my lunch.
Overalled and raisin brown, he sits
slumped on the tailgate of a rusty red pickup,
his floppy hat a shade against the burning sun.

Will the two dollar baskets buy
groceries to take home to the waiting wife
who helped him pick the plump fruit?
Or will he go by Bernie's Quik Stop,
buy a six pack or two, and cigarettes
that stain his teeth, tar his lungs?

He thanks me for my business, but his faded
eyes belie a mind that's somewhere else.
Today takes care of today. Tomorrow
he'll be here again, the tomatoes
redder, softer, a few fresh ones
sprinkled in, to appeal to people
who smile, and speak,
but never
see him.

From Now Mighty as Well be Then, Poetry by Glenda Council Beall,
published by Finishing Line Press, 2009