Whose blossoms glow pink in Spring,
Or whose leaves provide a maroon contrast
To the other trees in the garden,
Nor does its fruit have that cloying sweetness
That goes so well with chocolate.
No; these cherries, so ripe and beautiful,
Are as sour and bitter
As missing the ferry by a single car
Or coming in second place, and yet
They’re perfect for making pies.
How can we turn our bitterness into
Sweet pies, and sweeten the world?
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