volunteer tomato

holding its children up
to the sun


The image sparked the haiku, and when I went to post it on Instagram, I saw that Noah Davis had a post of himself reading poetry in his tomato patch, so I dedicated the haiku to him. Noah grew up around here, and he and his father Todd Davis (also a poet) hunt deer on our mountain, so I’ve kind of watched him grow up. His first collection, Of This River, was one of my favorite reads of the past year.

moon-gazing

sad face circled
by a moth


Night-flying moths will come to pale faces for the same reason they come to a light, I think: their navigation systems have evolved to orient by the moon, which of course is constantly changing, so they have to be flexible. So I’m afraid that countless generations of Sufi-influenced poets have gotten it wrong: moths don’t fly into a flame out of mad passion. They’re simply lost.

The image is a shot of sulfur shelf mushrooms from above, processed in Snapseed. I wanted something that looked like a Creator’s rough draft of moon, moth, or face all at once.