And on the seventh morning
she relaxed

content that all
that she had borne
was looking good.

At 10:00 or so, turned
pensive by the way
the jam glowed
berry, like a softer
sun, she fashioned

"Adum" [lit. "mud"]
of that dark
brew that she
found shifting
at the bottow
of her cup.

Tom Koontz
The Flying Island 1994