Last Night, I Dreamed of Tomatoes

Last Night, I Dreamed of Tomatoes

Spring is 28 days away. She stands beyond us like a cruel temptress. She is Keats’ La Belle Dame Sans Merci, a beautiful, unattainable tease. And then I dreamed of tomatoes, ripe, red… beautiful, unattainable. My reserve has wavered; I buy more and more food from...