Letters to June, #15

Dear June,

It’s the beginning of mango season, which is probably my favorite season. (Sorry Autumn and Summer, but it is what it is.) Mango season actually starts in May, but right now it seems like the first batch has bloomed and people are giving away their excess to family and friends. It’s all just so nice.

Mango is my favorite. I love all kinds of mango: ripe (which is my preferred way); pickled; sprinkled with li hing mui; green and almost all ripe, with bagoong (which is basically a Philippine condiment of fermented fish). I love the smell of mango and its juices. When I have shave ice, one of the flavors I get needs to be mango. I love cutting mango into cubes and making them pop up, just like how my mom used to do it for me. (She’s a pro at cutting mango and I aspire to be like her everyday.)

I even made a poem about mangos for the creative writing class I took two and a half years ago. It’s called Ode to Mango. (And here it is)

you look like a planet
with an off-centered gravity.
a bitter island
floats atop your north.
smothering olive skies
coats your south tip.
a golden storm
hovers the east,
while scarlet seas
floods the west.
you smell of a tropical sunset.

you are a heart.
not the childish shape,
a human heart
splattered with life’s bruises.
I can hear you
beating vibrancies.

bring me the wisdom of a tree,
the spontaneity of a cloud,
the unyielding strength
of the ocean.

I could make odes about mangos all day. Actually, probably not because that was my first and only ode I’ve ever written. And I guess if I only ever write one ode in my life, I’m glad it was about a mango.

I hope you liked my ode to mangos (is it mangos or mangoes? I really don’t know). I’ll write to you soon.

Love and all the good things,



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