As a cloud comes and goes,
But a man's lonely voice
Treasure I. Green is moist.
Be its snow in return,
Common one, toss and turn,
Gleaming, teppid and torn.
By the park sing in french,
Waving girl's scarlet trench,
Putting out my last match.
Sudden ghost, white of love,
Cut my pray to a cough.
"Just a Boeing above".