Saturday, May 16, 2009

afternoon, (v)

marjo's meal:
.
I pick the one ripe avocado
nearly black in a sea of grassy greens

I squeeze, salivate this timely promise,
the taste of fruit and nut as
smooth as butter on my tongue

I will serve it on a bed of green leaves
dappled with kumquat, sliced blackberries,
black peppercorns, crushed

I will baptize it in balsamic vinaigrette
and feast on the small true pleasure
that life affords me today.
.

4 comments:

andie said...

i love avocadoes. :) this sounded pretty gourmet...

Marjolaine Hébert said...

nyum. it was sooo good!

Anonymous said...

you speak of foods which have mostly been to me only names or objects I have seen in passing in stores and never associated with eating...but you speak of them with such passion, such respect, such appreciation that the reader can only wish to feel what you feel, desire what you desire...experience life as you experience it...and all this is so few words! This is a very good poem, and one which satisfies so much of what I believe is part of the purpose of writing: to share with others one's experience in being alive

Marjolaine Hébert said...

well, thank you kindly, Anonymous. I'm glad you enjoyed it. :)