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.
