In memory of Nancy Saunders

 

Maybe the All had to come into being

Just for the one that was really worth seeing

Or hearing, or tasting, or sensing somehow.

No Let there be light for just one delight,

It was All or nothing the All would endow.

And say for the sake of a dream that's right

(I'd ask the gods if the gods were around),

The question becomes: which one is the One?

Well, for this mortal with feet on the ground—

Early summer, when they're ripe in the sun

And so like gems in their beddings of green

There's nothing on Earth so fine to be seen—

And the first one picked is crushed on the palate!

Then the judge in me must bring down the mallet:

Strawberries!  Of course, it was strawberries!

It was all created for the strawberries.