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