|The wind quartet howls softly
|My jeep hand strokes her necklace
|Crusted, crammed with old Etruscan gold.
|Her bird head torn with summer
|Inspects a Spartan runner
|Robbing time a chosen Prince of Speed
|My goblet drenched with Autumn
|Tears for my dead cat Ena
|Silver Surfer sorcerer of spray.
|She headed deep in chartreuse
|A falcon glimpse of white teeth
|Separated by lace cinnamon folds.
|We hid and rid in hansom
|Cab wrenched from lost Byzantium
|Lordlett who once held the earth In chains.