Choices

A poem

Photo by Robin St on Unsplash

We tramp out into the straw-strewn fields

for berry picking.

Hands grasp for flashes of red…

Careful! It may only be a leaf.

Lift the tip… is it still white?

Give a tiny tug… is it really ripe?

Some seem to be

but are too dark, too ripe,

best to leave for the birds.

Small or large

are not necessarily the major choices.

As in much else,

I must be careful with appearances

and use

multiple criteria

to enjoy the sweet, juicy,

red results.