House of the Tomato

If a woman wants to be a poet, she must dwell in the house of the tomato. -- Erica Jong

Regional website for the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, in partnership with the Reader's Loft.


Celebrating, sharing and inspiring poetry throughout Wisconsin.

How He Met My Mother

How He Met my Mother


It was their duty to country that brought them together

       across a crowded room. He a Captain.

            She a sergeant. Rules forbid fraternization

yet he pursued              and pursued.

          She was the one. Brunette, with a WAC poster-girl smile.

They rode trains, met in the middle on weekends.

          A kiss pressed to fingers against the window

Their passion gushed as brakes to steam, to the rushed whistle of leaving.

          Married just before the war ended, their journey lasted 60 years

and I, the baby boomer, am carried on their train of eternity

           a kiss pressed to the window.


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