The Tropics in New York
Bananas ripe and green, and ginger-root,
Cocoa in pods and alligator pears,
And tangerines and mangoes and grape fruit,
Fit for the highest prize at parish fairs,
Set in the window, bringing memories
Of fruit-trees laden by low-singing rills,
And dewy dawns, and mystical blue skies
In benediction over nun-like hills.
My eyes grew dim, and I could no more gaze;
A wave of longing through my body swept,
And, hungry for the aged, familiar ways,
I turned aside and bowed my head and wept.
___________________________________
Excerpted from African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle and Song, edited by Kevin Young. Compilation copyright © 2020 by Library of America. Used by permission of the publisher.
