Green Mangoes
Russell Karrick
I planted a tree in the backyard & for every
leaf I offered a blessing to our son. The first time
we saw him he looked like a tiny astronaut floating
in space. His heart was the size of a star seen from
earth; it gave birth to the same primordial wonder.
After the doctor visit, we parked on a side street
& I climbed on top of the car to pluck green mangoes
for you. It rains almost every afternoon but the tin roof
gives each drop a bright voice. Last week, we ran
onto the hillside naked & waited for the next crash
of thunder before running back inside.
I dreamt that I saw his face
in the pale underbelly of a wet leaf.
###
Russell Karrick is a poet living in Colombia with his wife and son. He's an MFA student at Fairleigh Dickinson University studying Poetry & Translation. His work has appeared or is forthcoming from Magma Poetry, Jet Fuel Review, Blue Earth Review, and other journals.
I planted a tree in the backyard & for every
leaf I offered a blessing to our son. The first time
we saw him he looked like a tiny astronaut floating
in space. His heart was the size of a star seen from
earth; it gave birth to the same primordial wonder.
After the doctor visit, we parked on a side street
& I climbed on top of the car to pluck green mangoes
for you. It rains almost every afternoon but the tin roof
gives each drop a bright voice. Last week, we ran
onto the hillside naked & waited for the next crash
of thunder before running back inside.
I dreamt that I saw his face
in the pale underbelly of a wet leaf.
###
Russell Karrick is a poet living in Colombia with his wife and son. He's an MFA student at Fairleigh Dickinson University studying Poetry & Translation. His work has appeared or is forthcoming from Magma Poetry, Jet Fuel Review, Blue Earth Review, and other journals.
