February 3, 2010
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Rebecca just told me
That she is like a banana:
Her ideas got better and better
Until they got overripe.

It’s like how a good book
Is a good friend most days,
But if you read the book too much
It starts to lose its hype.

I went back to the garden
To pick a banana and see
How the green of youth
Turned golden yellow with age.

And then the perfect fruit
Became spotted with brown
Until it was consumed,
And its worth I could not gauge.

The dark, aged produce will never
Forget where it came from;
That once it flowered with
Abundance and thrived.

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