Tomatoes
I come in from the garden
and find cats cuddled in chairs
with the late afternoon summer sun
throwing rays across their bodies
making their coats glimmer.
For now, they are all happy
and I smile at its rarity.
I wipe a stray hair
that has fallen across my nose
and smell the earthy, pungent
aroma of tomatoes, their bounty
overflowing to feed family
and friends alike.
I think of my mother
and how she always looked peaceful
with her head bowed amongst
green leaves, hands reaching
between branches for sun sweet fruit.
I think of how my small child
stood beside her plucking
cherry tomatoes and eating them
warm from the vine. These delicate
moments that she’ll remember
long after my mother is gone.
I think of how this is my life now,
finding peace and awe in how
my own hands can grow food
when I didn’t believe they could
and how her ghost is beside me
reminding me of how simple
life was, and can be if I just let it.
Alone
The path through the woods
is winding, overgrown
and my feet narrowly miss
fresh mushrooms bursting
up through scattered leaves
and the last greens of summer.
A fallen tree lay in front of me,
a section cut precisely in the center,
to let me still follow the trail.
Beyond the tree I see a teepee
built of broken limbs and debris.
I stand there at the opening
tempted to step in but hesitate
feeling it would be the most
perfect coffin.
My body disintegrating
back to the earth
My bones fodder for wolves
to pick clean.
My hair becoming nests
for new lives
I can’t think of any sweeter
way to go, nothing more peaceful.
But today is not the day.
The sun pushes on my back
moving me forward
to finish living this life.
Aleathia Drehmer is the creator and editor of Durable Goods: The Missouri Collective which featured poetry from high school students affected by trauma. Aleathia is the author of seven chapbooks and currently has three collections of poetry available: We Don’t Get to Write the Ending (Roadside Press), Looking for Wild Things (Impspired), and Layers of Half-Sung Hymns (Cajun Mutt Press). Her forthcoming chapbook, Little Graveyards, is available summer 2025 on Roadside Press. You can follow Aleathia’s journey at www.aleathiadrehmer.com
