NADJA MARIL

The Fruit Trade

Deft strokes of a knife
separate the skin from the flesh.
I watch his tan hands.
Late morning sun on my shoulders 
ready to pay
the vendor on the streets of Guadalajara
for my prize,
a sweet yellow mango 
on a stick.

Squeeze of lemon
sprinkle of salt.
For a few coins
he makes it look so easy
that decades later
attempting to peel
a ripe mango. In my kitchen
I think of him.
I think of me,
the girl I was in Mexican summer
the woman I am in Maryland summer
making fruit salad.

Carefully, I wash my hands. 
Mango, a relative of Poison Ivy 
can be dangerous.
Too much Mango on my mouth
oozing blisters may appear.
Both plants contain urushiol.
How was I able to eat a mango each day
for an entire month
at age nineteen?

To my salad I add blueberries and apple.
The mango flesh near the seed is safe.
Deep blue tiny spheres beside gold rectangles
a bit of the sour and sweet
I love the contrast and the shapes.
Rare and exotic fruit for a northerner
in old age I witness food shipped everywhere.
Selfishly every whim of humankind indulged
wonder and gratitude is forgotten.
The girl has eaten many mangos
The woman is ready to give them up. 

Nadja Maril’s prose and poetry has been published in literary magazines that include, Spry Literary Review, Across the Margin, and Hare’s Paw Literary Review, Her chapbook of poems and memoir. Recipes from My Garden, (Old Scratch Press) was just released https://rb.gy/eivdv3. A former journalist and editor, Nadja has an MFA from Stonecoast at the University of Southern Maine. To read more of her work and follow her weekly blog posts, visit Nadjamaril.com https://nadjamaril.com/