Behind the house, on the deck above our yard,
hang life and death suspended from two poles.
A feeder nourishes a hummingbird.
Nearby, imprisoned by the one-way holes
of a brightly colored trap, lured in by scent,
a dozen yellowjackets wait to die.
And we, who set these fates, now sit content
like minor gods assigning destiny.

One flying creature thrills us with its show;
the other hurts us, out of seeming spite.
Poet, how many years until you know
the destiny which you have been assigned?
Go teach the truth of pain or give delight,
though neither course will save you in the end.