and the valley of shadows, where the brook’s silence springs
to the grass of green meadows as it sprinkles on things.
Let thy yolk pass my lips and slide down in the gullet
to be followed so soon by the unruly mullet.
There are acids, ferments and there’s alkaline brew
wholly tacit sweet scents and a topping of dew.
I shall ask for a voucher to a breakfast in bed
nothing more need be written nothing further be said.