a perfect pear

pear on table
We may not be growing such good grapes as the previous house owner did, but the pears this year are magnificent.

Writing the post title – and remembering that this blog was originally intended to include poetry as well as random thoughts – I was reminded of Dorothy Parker’s One Perfect Rose.

Over the years, I’ve received my fair share of bouquets of flowers – though never (yet), I think, long-stemmed red roses – so I, too, wonder why no one ever thought to give me “one perfect limousine”.

I imagine the orchard is knee deep in windfall apples and pears after yesterday’s wind, which took the phone line out and played havoc with the internet connection. (We already had to replace the router after a lightning strike last week.) So, actually, just at the moment, the most useful thing anyone could send me might be one not-necessarily-perfect-but-adequately-efficient telecom engineer.

Author: don't confuse the narrator

Exploring the boundary between writer and narrator through first person poetry, prose and opinion

One thought on “a perfect pear”

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