The Dharma is like an Avocado!
— Gary Snyder
When you slice a ripe avocado
lengthwise, along its prime meridian,
cleave it in two through its thin, dimpled skin,
open its creamy green flesh to plein air,
one half holds onto the nut-brown seed
and the other half lies bare, exposed
with a gaping depression in the curvature
of absence, the seed-shaped contour of loss.
Standing at the counter, slicing avocados,
looking up, thinking about divorce.