By A. Mauricio Ruiz

April 30, 2018


This morning I went out to the garden with my mom and picked up guavas, tiny yellow pieces of fruit that had fallen from the tree and now lay scattered on the ground. I bent over and picked them up, one by one, thought of the time when there was only grass and my mom had the idea of planting a seed. Sunlight was washing over me, and seconds passed. I lifted my torso and gazed at the late autumn sky beyond the branches, the fragrant gift of nature entering my body, a scent that seemed to linger as I stood there watching.

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