Tomato Love

I carry tomato seedlings up the stairs,

their first steps out of the basement,

the womb where where all their needs were met: 

soil, water, light

all given in sufficient measure.

I place them gently in a protected place, 

where the sun and wind are not too harsh.

This is it: the hardening off.

It is time.

I hover, sipping coffee in my chair nearby,

watching them struggle in the breeze,

and feel sorry for the young plants.

They need to be prepared, I tell myself sternly.

They need to be able to survive in the Real World.

The winds will break their stems, and

the bugs will devour their fruit, and

the sun will scald their leaves, and

the rain will smash them into pulp

if they are not strong.

I do them no favors with my softness, my safeguarding.

It is time for them to become harder, more resilient,

able to overcome adversity.

I am sad. I am proud.

It is, as they say,

tough love.