Strawberries in your hair

there was this small strawberry-
i was picking in a farmer's patch-
and it looked so perfectly red and well-formed.
i glanced away, noticed that other people
were also picking near my row, but not close by.
My container was almost full, almost to
capacity, but there was room for more,
another berry, certainly.
As i knelt, i held this small strawberry, rotating the fruit
softly and slowly between my thumb and
forefinger, imaging the sweet taste.
i gave a brief tug to the cap and it snapped free.
The berry asked me in the most polite way-
berries can talk, you know-to do it the honor
of eating it, immediately and
i ate the berry and it was good.