Vale Vale Rain-wet, the green plush of the valley floor.
Water slicks down the long leaves, richly indulgent.
A heavy mat of heresy. Mindful not to sully their white mantles. They extol in a single note from their golden throats, Mindful of the burden of their tonic freight. Uncareless, obsessed with apology, it's true they are ashamed. Vacuole in fleshy tissues.