Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Mangoes by the Road

The roads into the hills are steep
and scorching powdery dust
clings to our ankles. Surrounded
by strangers and a language I don't speak
we stop to buy a mango.

The smell revives me. Food, drink,
ambrosia in a plain green skin.
Gold-rich juice cuts the road dust
from my thirsty throat. Flesh
strong as meat fills my belly. Excelsior!

--for Read Write Poem
Collection available! Knocking from Inside

9 comments:

poefusion said...

i love this. it's great when one can quench a deep thirst. one can almost taste your mango by the end. have a great day.

Deb said...

A luscious memory, welcomed any day.

Paul Oakley said...

Very nice. I like the way the powerful effect of the beautifully described mango is placed within a setting of unfamiliarity.

rallentanda said...

Living in mango country adds another dimension to your life.It is a magnificent fruit and should be revered.We have names of mango lane and mango crossing here.It features in a lot of my poems.

Linda Jacobs said...

"Gold-rich juice cuts the road dust
from my thirsty throat."

I love this line!

Anonymous said...

I like the straightforward and economical way this expresses the narrator's circumstances and the fruit's simple though poignant quenching power.

Unknown said...

Mangoes are so lush and exotic. Easy to see why they would overpower the heat, dryness and discomfort of the climb.

Cynthia Short said...

Delicious! I love the how your economy of language can still paint such a vivid picture.

Anonymous said...

Mangoes always seem to have that effect on people -the lushness of them is a whole image in and of itself.