Submitted in response to Andy Townend/Mara Eastern’s Poetry Rehab 101 Prompt Flora. https://wordpress.com/read/post/feed/31982590/825543088
Mangoes Growing
The green buds in the tree start to swell in the grey rain
straining towards the ground—
sperm writ large.
They cluster together desperately on a stalk till all but one
fall unappetizingly onto flagstones and are swept away by brooms.
The lucky fruit grows fleshy and orange
and, when it drops,
is scoffed up by a scavenger,
leaving a stone to grow.
A very visceral image in this poem, great work!
You work great with the imagery and I like the thoughtfulness within.
Great writing!
Thank you! I enjoy your work too.