Meditation on Parenting

// Candice M. Kelsey

Parenthood is a tropical evergreen
bearing Titian-tint fruit, pear-shaped
marañon forming drupes
that birth a single cashew seed. Like these

cashews beneath apples, our children
spend years with us. Anacardium,
they exist outside our hearts no matter bold
blooming efforts to snug them in.

Known in Portuguese as acaju,
or that which produces itself, cashews
grow double shells and potent skin
not unlike a daughter who stretches further

away behind her bedroom door.
Kidney-shaped fruit a sudden swimming pool
my boy’s aureate body enters
like a song. His tantrums of urushiol

oil sweat poison ivy like cashews
which must be roasted with protective gloves.
Unbearable toxins, parenting—careful
processing is crucial. Failing again, 

I am monkey-rose apple, false fruit
and useless. How I’ve treated my own parents.
When it drops below 10°C,
cashew trees freeze, are replaced.