When we moved in, our garden held
vines of strawberries, red.

I was delighted! My heart just swelled!
My very first flowering bed!

I picked ripe ones daily, elated was I
for this treasure that now was all mine.

That is, 'til the day that I happened to spy
A chipmunk with fruit from my vine!

He sat eating breakfast, his tush on the leaves.
He chewed at a languorous pace.

My eyes gaped, my throat choked, I could not believe
I'd had food from that chipmunk's same place.

I ate no more berries; the thought made me hurl.
I wanted no part of that bounty.

The day I'd share food with that small quasi-squirrel
is the day I would move from this county!