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Yesterday, I took a tomato from the vine,
bit into its warm flesh, and let it fill my mouth
with sun. The only thing missing
was a pinch of salt from your hand,
brushing seeds from my lips.
Today, I plunged my fingers into soil
and found my hands unbroken,
though my heart was cracked and capsizing.
I settled peppers in neat rows to grow,
salt drying in smooth rivers on my cheeks.
Tomorrow, or sometime hereafter,
there’ll be salsa. I’ll take water, make wine.
Where does love go when it goes? It’s never lost,
but found in the seasoning,
in the garden, of the survivor.
© 2026 Jennifer Wagner
dVerse Poetics: Where does love go?
What’s Going On? Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow
A lovely and clever blend of the two prompts. "Tomorrow, or sometime hereafter, there’ll be salsa." one can only hope.
ReplyDeleteOh just beautiful. It’s in the salt and condiments that make the dishes implode in your mouth and in the heart.
ReplyDeleteI’m twice grateful for this poem as it served to remind me of a draft I started two full moons ago and put aside. I must resurrect and make into a poem. Thanks for that. And for the liveliness of your share. Powerful. Thanks. Xo, SelmaMartin
Jennifer, this poem hit me right in the heart - where does love go, indeed...the tears on the narrator's cheeks as she plants seeds of hope for what sustenance there is.......it is indeed found in the garden of the survivor. My new favourite poem of yours. I know the story, so this poem really hit me in the heart.
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