I ate them everyday
Relishing in their forgiving texture
and sweet flesh
Deep inside something turned
and the time of bananas ended
Now I compost
Turn over the refuse of my mind
Hoping something edible will flower from it
I miss the taste of bananas
So I throw their peels into the pile
Deep inside something turns
widdershins, inward
turning over the compost heap
After the process of heat and decay
I can see that it is not nourishment from bananas I crave
It is the rich black soul soil of reflection
Reposted from LiveJournal Sep. 23rd, 2009
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