Fennel
I rub fennel between my fingers
and some is taken up in the breeze.
I take it up to my mouth
and chew. It is like aniseed, a universe.
And so the Benedictine draws
for his botanica
and here is my tongue;
I suggest taste is a dialogue
between man and God –
I still suggest it.
How the taste has not changed
in a thousand years.
Or perhaps it has a little,
moment by moment, here, or heaven,
for it too is written.