at this waste of unripe
serviceberries:
you're the only one who was
naive enough to swoop
into this adolescent bush
and tap the last
of your crazed energy
to rob it of this meager feast;
the others wouldn't bother—
they're so keen to queue
at the neighborhood feeders.
But though your payload
pales to theirs, I bet
the nectar's sweeter,
since their great
salvation was delivered
and is shared—whereas
your indiscretion
is yours
alone.
