To young Hipsters, to make much of etiquette…
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may…
from “To young Virgins, to Make Much of Time”, by Robert Herrick
Type your texts when romance must leave.
When taillights descend into dale from your eyes, what then? Will a chance grieve?
What restraint of your sight stuck in such things to thieve
iris from iris for what yellow yarn a hand-held phone might weave!
It is not Narcissus, nor the stream, we bereave,
yet eloquent, elemental lonesome Echo lost to a forest seeking a sieve.