Friday, May 31, 2024

TRANSGRESSION

To the robin 
pecking furiously 
at all the shriveled 
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.