Like people, pears will ripen
from inside.
Picked too early you will find them
hard, unyielding.
Leave it late
and there’ll be nothing left
but wasp-drilled carcasses and mush.
Choose the moment.
A cool September evening feels right –
slanting sunlight and the pears
jade green and flecked with raindrops.
Cup one in your hand
and twist – you’ll hear a click,
the branch flicks back –
you feel the full weight
in your palm.
Like people, pears bruise easily.
Don’t crowd them. Half a dozen
in each bowl is company enough.
Leave them for a day or two
to ripen in the sun.
Then bite one.
Taste the sudden gush of scented juice
upon your tongue,
that flesh as sweet as summer,
white as snow.
The Top Banana 