For mom
In your last despatch to Tanzania you said,
"Our son is going wild."
I lead my brothers into an abandoned stockade
And we steal cooking apples.
Laughing, you said,
"You know, Last night, I dreamed I really had the answer.
I woke your father up and said. "It's a banana,"
Then we went back to sleep."
Look.
I hold this orange near to you now.
Love is blind like this orange.
And I wave its scent toward you,
Hoping you will smell blossoms.
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