Ode to the Palta (Avocado)

After Ode to the Tomato by Pablo Neruda

Green paltas
invade
my kitchen to dance
la cueca with my senses
after their long journey
across the bitter world, a sweet gift from Pachamama
like my father who taught me to feel
and press its skin: a map of lost worlds
Andean mountains and valleys
find no hollows, just shadows.
The knife slices: halves it
into melting green moons;
never hemispheres, just tears.
Spoon out
its heart, the stone, a seed of promise.
Roll, cut and squeeze
el limón, catch the pips between fingers,
as slippery as hope.
Sprinkle salt, divert el diablo.
To celebrate pour olive oil,
essential, child of the olive.
Spread the thick green paste,
on toast like butter.
Its earthy taste hums a tune
of my faraway relatives;
the salt of the Pacific breeze,
the soil and its green memories.

Ulrike Durán Bravo is a German-Chilean writer and teacher, who lives in Cornwall, UK with her husband and children. Most of her writing is inspired by her heritage and natural surroundings. In 2009 she earned an MA in Creative Writing from Southampton University with distinction. Her short play Draco and Juno has been performed at the Berry Theatre. Ulrike’s short stories have been published in anthologies and magazines, including Solent Press, Cornwall Writers, and The London Reader. Her poetry has appeared in Mordardh and Mordros, being part of the all-female Mor Poets collective based in Cornwall; as well as in Inkfish, Heroica and Amaranth magazines. Her favourite tree is the monkey puzzle and she loves swimming in the sea.