yet bitingly assertive
adding piquancy to our meal
as we talk of how it is for us
this mid May evening.
Constellations of miniature stars cut from
a mass of edible foliage
hefted from a cool corner of a manse garden
where Stevenson played,
now perfume and linger on my senses
causing me to sit and savour
the offered sustenance of this day
and give silent thanks.