Sol The Tomato
Picture Book Manuscript
by Dan Leonard
Approx. 190 words

 

Sol grew among many.

Round.
Color deepening.

The vine held him
as the summer air grew heavy.

But the garden was listening.

Nothing had fallen yet.

 

Warm in the full light—
sun resting
on his skin.

He did not hurry.
The sun found him early.

Warmth settled
deep inside.

 

Air moved through the leaves,
his fruit
pulling gently down.

Each day
a little heavier.

The vine
feeling the weight.

The garden stayed bright.

 

Nearby, vines crossed.
Crawlers came and went.
Nothing stood alone.

 

On the longest day,
rain came hard.
Leaves shook.

 

On Sol’s vine,
one red tomato
let go.

Sol did not.

 

The vine
held his weight.

The vine
did not let go.

 

The rain moved on.
Moisture floated
in the warm air.
The vine still held.

Summer continued.

 

Scent drifted outward.
Green.
Warm.
Open.

 

Below the vines,
the Soil Keeper attended.

Her spade caught the light—
sun-warm and steady.

Fresh sweetness arrived.
Green aroma settled.

Earth took it in.

 

The vine held Sol in the warmth.

The garden stayed full.

 

Heat lingered.

Evening gathered slowly.
The garden breathed.