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An Inch More, To The Mango

An outburst of life, indiscriminately.
Discreetly
a seed is held
and never let go
by the soil.

Grow, growing and grown
A tree now stands on its own
Fruiting.

Plush leaves hide
A golden tide
Loved by an even tempered sun
Winds softly push
At its being.

From a hardy, hand-sized seed
Arises, an invitation of nature
Plucked, it is held in hand
Admired, it is cut
Side to side
Halves slides off
Chilled
Just one half to savour.

Thoughtfully shaped
To blend in further
The becoming
Of a little sweetener.

Juices rush
In absolute
Innocent largesse
To reach-
 the tree of man.

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