Tonight I ate a perfectly ripe banana. Just soft enough, but not too soft. No brown spots in the fruit, but the skin was dappled with them. (
Glory be to God for dappled things.)
The perfection of a banana is brief, briefer than ... the blush of a rose.
How's that for poetic?
|
A thing of beauty is a joy ...
well, not quite forever. |
I stole this picture from: Temerity Jane:
Settle This XI: The Peak of the Banana. It came up when I googled "ripe banana."
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