If our happiness, here, blessed by the sun, is a place for ploce, then let us not be chicken about accepting our chicken as the linchpin of our love, for the profundeur of our mutual affinity has merited gestures of amore from those cock-a-doodles on paleotechnic pieces to those serenades egged on for a pyrotechnic encore; so, let us walk into the glowing horizon, hand in hen in hand, together, forever. ; )