Chickadee drippings on green cabbage stone,
vinegar fog so cold to the bone,
vintage poured from daffodils,
"Slainte!" to wind-drizzled hills.
Raise a tulip cup, toast the plum
bound in its bud, still scentless and dumb.
Batter the cherry, the loam-loaf knead,
sweetened with drops of meadow mead.
sweetened with drops of meadow mead.
Leavened by what makes peepers sing,
dollop your eyes on the littlest thing.
Feasting on crumbs, keep walking alone.
Note: "Slainte," pronounced "slan-cha," is the ancient Irish toast.
Note: "Slainte," pronounced "slan-cha," is the ancient Irish toast.
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