Waiting for the Man

I lost my children when
I planted tomatoes in the spring.
I watched their flowers grow,
Which came to tasty morsels
Of ciabatta, olive oil and garlic;
Tasty morsels of nothing.
So we would drive to Kumeu,
Drink sparkling wine
Eat salad, bread and ham,
While looking at the vines.
I lost them while I was waiting,
Waiting for the man
To stop tasting and grow up.
So today, the boy in me is crying,
Crying for the man who never was.

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