Paul is bathing Jeanne,
In a tub on the top floor
Of a house in Archery Square
He tenderly caresses her
With a soft flannel
They engage in small talk
And do not notice
That the oak tree
Opposite their high window
Is shedding its fruits
Into the brisk winds
I am by now entering
Archery Square
And am walking through
The scattered
Yet doomed acorns