Green

In the garden, moist earth beneath my feet,
I curl tiny tendrils around a wire.
“Stay there little one,” I whisper and push
Green wisps through holes. “Hold tight.”
Five pointed stars in school bus yellow
Open and wait while older sisters curl up tight
Around secrets. I look for fruit. I wait
For the fruit to tell me, “It’s your turn. The time is here.”
But the time is always now and the time I wait for
Never arrives. Yellow tomatoes, yes, but time,
Time never ripens, never sweetens.

We made the trellis out of several things:
Twist-ties and black plastic mesh, long, slender rough-hewn
Sticks and white metal curls. The vines grew higher
Than we anticipated and so we added to our support
Every few days to accommodate. We reinforced
To hold the weight.
“Taste this,” I told her. “We grew this in the dirt.”
Green, all green, everything is still green, but time
Will change that. Wait.
I wait.