“Every object and being in the universe is a jar overflowing with wisdom and beauty, a drop of the Tigris that cannot be contained by any skin. Every jarful spills and makes the earth more shining, as though covered in satin… Make peace with the universe. Take joy in it. It will turn to gold. Resurrection will be now. Every moment, a new beauty.”
The Hass Avocados at the grocer
are sad looking fellows.
But, in January,
during a pandemic,
lucky there’s even a selection.
The avocados are little soldiers,
leaning against each other in the quiet bin
that someone haphazardly dumped them into.
Overflowing with this versatile fruit.
Throughout the day
people have eyed, touched, tossed the wonderful loot—
searching for that one, impossibly dark green, ripe ‘cado
that’s ready to devour. Biting into its soft, succulent meat
is a tongue’s treasure.
Finding that one
for salads, wraps, dips.
It’s a goldmine. $1.79 each. Joy.
Not too high a price to taste divine.
The nutrients are much: potassium, vitamins E, B6, C,
magnesium, folate, and it’s what I love the most—
My turn to search. Looking through the pile—
This one has sagging skin, that one full of dents and bruises. It’s a no.
O, there is one, a little beauty. It has a little give when I touch it,
It’s soft near the stem, the stem pops off with a slight touch.
I imagine the vibrant, green flesh beneath. The sound seed
hidden inside, protected.
I love to root the seed
and watch it grow.
I make my purchase and head home.
Ready for the creamy, nutty taste of this buttery avocado.
Gina Marselle © January 15, 2022
listen to my poem on my SoundCloud: https://soundcloud.com/gina-marselle/avocado
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