Caught in the Personal

Looking beyond myself,
I see a man in the market
stocking ugli fruit. It is
too big, too green, too other,
alien as a green brain, but
said to be cherished by elephants,
who cleave its pebbly skin open
to reach pulp that holds the seeds.
In what famine would it feed me,
in what family? I'm relieved to be me.

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