Anni's Avocado, Bread and Salt
Cut an avocado in half and take out the pit by gently slapping the blade of a sharp knife horizontally across the pit. Slice the avocado while still in the skin, and then squeeze the flesh onto slices of bread – any will do, but multigrain is best. Mash the avocado evenly onto the bread and sprinkle generously with salt. A slab of summer-ripe tomato is nice, too, between the avocado and the salt.
Avocado Sun
by Anneliese Kamola
I finished the decision by throwing my hat over the fence.
You seemed angry, but I suspect you were a bit excited, too.
We picked up the windblown avocados as if discovering gold:
One by one.
Cupping them gently in our hands until we could hold no more,
we finally pulled our shirtfronts out and made produce bags to carry them in.
I wanted to climb the trees to pick more glistening avocados,
but you insisted that we choose only from the fallen ones.
We shouldn’t steal, or at least not in that way.
We walked back through the park,
shirts stretching around bumpily green fruit.
I wore my hat.
The rolling hills shone in morning light.
I nestled against you in the window’s sun-square.
The countryside flew by. The hills were steep.
We waited for the spot; the spot where the tracks turn so sharply
we could see the front and back of the train at the same time.
Digging into our bags I brought out
an avocado, bread, and salt.
You pulled out your pocketknife.
We sat in the sun-square, close together, cutting, mashing, sprinkling -
eating delicate fruit.
Often, now, we sit on our deck at lunchtime,
sun reflecting off the wood and onto our necks.
We eat avocadoes mashed onto bread, with salt.