Last year’s cherry tomato
reseeded itself. Long dead in the pot,
it greened again when Spring came.
I hadn’t known
that plants could do this:
drop overripe fruit, passed over
or forgotten on the vine,
and root itself in the soil. We’d call this
insidious if it were something else
or at least relentless. Its sister
plant, from the same crop of seeds,
wilted after yielding
just three fruits: the conjoined twin
with the weaker half of the heart.
Claire Kiefer is a writer and educator living in the Bay Area. She received her MFA in Poetry from San Francisco State University in 2007 and works in the education program of a nonprofit oral history book series.