I am not so much a cool cucumber as one really hot tomatah.
“Post Humus,” Patti Tana
Scatter my ashes in my garden
so I can be near my loves.
Say a few honest words,
sing a gentle song,
join hands in a circle of flesh.
Please tell some stories
about me making you laugh.
I love to make you laugh.
When I’ve had time to settle
and green gathers into buds,
remember I love blossoms
bursting in spring.
As the season ripens
remember my persistent passion.
And if you come in my garden
on an August afternoon,
pluck a bright red globe,
let juice run down your chin
and the seeds stick to your cheek.
When I’m dead I want folks to smile
and say, “That Patti, she sure is
some tomato!”