Ode to My Avo

Oh nubby green frogskin
Gleaming dully in my fruitbowl
You split with a pop
Under my old serrated knife
I saw around your oval
And twist your seams apart
To find perfect unmarred flesh
Yellow-green and fresh
Odors of earth and sun
Promises of spring
Rise softly after a year of sorrow
Sprinkle salt and pepper
This my solitary supper
Spoonripe bites
Silky as creamcake
All dreams are possible

Froot

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6 responses to “Ode to My Avo

  1. Now I want one. So this is a successful poem–I don’t even like them. But I want one anyway.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I first learned how to test avocados for suitable ripeness just a few weeks ago in late December. You pluck off the stem nub and check the inner stem color. I forget what the color code thinger actually was, something about black vs brown vs green. Pretty sure black means it’s past useful duedate. But not certain.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Thanks David! Last night’s was the best one I’ve ever tasted, so I thought it needed a pome.

    Zero, I can tell by their softness.

    Like

  4. I can tell by the give in the flesh when pressed gently with my thumb.

    Enjoyed the lovely poetry!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Pingback: On Ottering | Light Motifs

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