He saw the girl on the ridge,
picked her pink overalls through
the throes of the cherry field.
She picked them herself,
examining each little one,
the popping it into her mouth,
cherry-stained lips widening into a smile.
The sight burned him, especially from the car,
because he knew that she could not think
anything other an a metal beast travelled this road.
He drove on without getting out and asking her name,
because anxiety tainted his heart,
and life outside this cage
won't make him happy:
he knew it already,
and never saw the cherry field again.