Where Mango Trees Don't Grow

By: Natasha Karenina Wijaya

(pt.1)

I can still picture you

in that white 

nightgown you wore so much

it had holes 

you refused to mend

waiting on that mango tree 

you planted that you swore 

would bear fruits someday

you would bask in the heat

of the sun

chasing the turtles

that kept disappearing

and the rabbit

you never named

and every morning you’d sit 

with a cup of coffee

and send me away

before you crawled

back under the sheets

(pt.2)

now,

your dress hangs still 

on the edge of your closet

with holes 

I refuse to mend

and the leaves of your tree

almost as stubborn

as you

has withered

before it bore fruits

and the turtles

yet to be found

probably dug graves

and filled themselves in

while the rabbit

you never named

sits somewhere else it calls home

and every morning

I’d wake up to the sun 

in this place 

where mango trees don’t grow

only to silently crawl 

back under the sheets