“Moon cactus” — a colorful mutation grafted onto the green cactus base. It does not survive on its own, lacking chlorophyll and unable to photosynthesize.
Unlike the moon cactus, I DID survive on my own before I grafted myself onto this space at the base of the Rockies…
But like the moon flower inosculated* with the green succulent base, I get sustenance, sharing with Joseph.
The tissue of our lives grows together.
I recall a mango tree that lived in my yard in Cabo ca. 1992:
The towering mango tree at the entrance
to our house gave us sprawling shade
and two kinds of mangoes each season,
gifts from a horticultural graft, xylem and
phloem of two strains growing as one.
If we harvested with our right hand,
effervescent ataulfos, with our left
petacones. One so supple, a nibble would
send juice down our chin, our chest.
The other, firm, its assertive flavor tempting
us to bite our lips. And when we gnawed the flesh
to the ragged pit, cracked the core, we found
each with true hearts of polished mahogany,
indistinguishable one from the other.
( (c) 2012, mes, from “Icarus Cannonballed: a lesson in cave diving in the Bahamas — second in the series of (so far) three poem-a-day books written with Yvonne Garrett. Click title for purchase information.)
* From wikipedia: Inosculation is a natural phenomenon in which trunks, branches or roots of two trees grow together. It is biologically very similar to grafting. Branches first grow separately in proximity to each other until they touch. At this point, the bark on the touching surfaces is gradually abraded away as the trees move in the wind. Once the cambium of two trees touches, they self-graft and grow together.