An old Florida home
Mango tree in the back yard
Hanging over our patio
When May comes
The Mangos are ripe
As ripe as the school children are for summer
As ripe as the reflection of the sun
The sun’s brightness is blinding
And every time we open our eyes
After having stared at the sun
Our perspective on the world is different
Our change of perspective is not conscious
When it rains
It’s fresh
Fresh like dew on a daisy
Fresh like a daisy sitting in the hair of a girl in love
A girl in love
It sounds foolish
That we accept such a complex notion
There aren’t any noncomplex concepts
An explanation doesn’t exist
I could explain for hours
Explaining wouldn’t mean anything
Explaining wouldn’t mean anything more than the coming of May
Or the passing of summer
Even the new beginning of fall
Fall to the ground
Be with the soil
Nothing is forever