Working toward the center

An avocado ripens on the window sill Beside a white cyclamen in a clay pot. She picks up the soft dark fruit. The bruised shell tears As she presses the skin. Knife in hand, she cuts The avocado to the pit, Peels away the dry skin. She pares off a thin slice, Slides it into her mouth, Mashes it with her tongue Against her teeth. The slippery fruit in her palm, She cuts into the middle And around the seed; Ponders, not its moist outer layer, Not its thin surface, but the core: Centeredness is an ideal. Hands and seed rinsed, Seed poked into the pot, she holds Her dripping fingers above a blossom And wonders when the seed will sprout again. The ideal, like the wet flower, glistens.

About these ads
Sponsored Content by LockerDome

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...

Save for later

Save
Cancel

Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items

OK