Magnolias & Mangoes
 
Magnolias bloom in the memory
of my past.  The heat of Selma's
sun burns my fair skin but not
the eyes.  Here, where hope resides; 
 
the quiet calm of a buddhist statue
situated where there is love. 
Across town, blacks and whites
don't mix.  Asian women scatter
 
themselves like flower seeds.
Each hoping to secure their roots.
Grow in a garden overflowing with
weeds.  I am their hybrid.  One of
 
many to appear.  Daddy returns from
the Vietnam War a weeping willow. 
Shoulders slumped, eyes downcast
from some nightmare he feels lucky
 
to have escaped from.  Only to return
to more hatred.  Ignorance of borders.
Mama offers ripe mangoes to sweeten
the mood.  Serves them with sticky rice.
 
Worry tucked away with sour green
mangoes in a brown paper bag. 

© Sandy Benitez