Orchard Crowns and Orbital Crows gathers nineteen poems that keep one foot in the garden and one eye on the sky. George Naranjo writes through Madre and Papi's tended plot, a grandmother's temple, and the myths of Demeter and Icarus, letting crows stand watch over grief, addiction, and a father's rotting machete handle. Spanish endearments sit next to cosmic imagery, and a supernova's slow collapse starts to sound a lot like a family quietly coming apart. These are poems about inheritance, in every form it takes: what's planted, what's lost, what still insists on blooming after the harvest. Naranjo's voice feels just as at home in myth as it does on a city block. If you've ever looked at your family and then at the stars and wondered which one made you, this book is for you.
