A Recipe for an Episcopalian
He used to leave the tomato leaves
To dry on the windowsill,
The largest on the left,
Diminishing in size
Until there was just a scrap of green left,
The baby of the family.
Once dry, the leaves were so fragile
A strong gust of wind could crack them.
He put them into soups, sauces and
Sauerkraut: odd for an Episcopalian.
I remember his Sunday sermons,
Severe for a man who took such care
With the leaves of tomatoes.
But as we both grew older, and I learned
How the family had fallen apart,
I realized the importance of tomato leaves–
Making order out of chaos,
Letting the juices dry,
Keeping us all in line.