Monday, February 06, 2006

14/365 Aaron

You grew tomatoes, you smelt of them. The boys on the bus feigned respect, laughing after you got off. The rumours came quietly. I pieced it together, but never asked. Now I tend my tomatoes, thinking of you, attempting refuge.

2 Comments:

Blogger crystal said...

Hi Jona :-) I love the way tomatoes small - reminds me of my grandparents, who used to grow them. Are you the Jona who lived in Bermuda?

06 February, 2006 19:48  
Anonymous Bonamy said...

This is beautiful.

21 February, 2007 19:05  

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