The mangoes of our lives

 

on my palm, you are sun

goddess made by the tropical

gods in their dreams

i cut you

across your seed

lengthwise

as your yellowing juice

drips & tinges

my fingertips of heavenly

sweetness

some would even

cut your flesh into little squares

to be spooned into

desserts light & creamy as clouds

but by the streets & shores

of hardy farmers, fishermen & tradesmen

we holler for you

salivating over

your hard green

skin of unripeness

a tartness to rouse our tongues

to firehouse

of bitter-sour flavor

the earth has pickled in your seed

either freshly picked

or mixed with diced tomatoes,

onions, chiles and

shrimp paste sauce,

a side dish

for grilled fish and fried meats

under cool shades

of coconut trees,

your greenness gives us

roots

salt of our skin

browning under the burning sun

Source

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - How to cut a pomegrante, hosted by Kim M. Russell.  Join us for a fruity prompt when the pub doors open by 3pm EST.