Leaf oh leaf, of fleeting grief,
where will you fall tomorrow?
When once your vein laps up the rain
so soon will flit your sorrow.
Bee oh bee, of majesty
where will you rest your crown?
When once the springs supplant your wings,
so soon will wilt your gown.
Gannet, oh dear gannet flock,
when will the wind recall?
The sonnet of your ecstasy
embedded in your squall?