Ode to the Tri-Tip

The two Harter House tri-tips pre-poem.

Two tri-tips diverged in a burning grill,
And sorry I could not eat them both
And be one diner, long I stood
And looked down at one as far as I could
To where it charred on its underside;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was slightly bigger and I wanted rare;
Though as for that,
Would have ate them really about the same,

And in that evening I began to lay
In my bed upon my rack,
Oh, I kept the first tri-tip for another day!
Yet knowing what most people would say,
I knew I had to hurry back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two tri-tips diverged in a burning grill, and I--
I bought them from Harter House,
And that has made all the difference. 

(with sincere apologies to Robert Frost)