A sparrow close-range, a dedicated follower,
packing a double voice range, gets into love trouble,
last blinded by the sea only tonight, this evening of the seals.

Two old seals suddenly lift in a renown wave, the same
in each. Humming back, large as the beach
staring away at the first light.

When the light goes there are too many weighted ways around.

It goes for gladness reasons. No
one you know, seals go too, mourning their orchard rounds.