Existence is an appoggiatura Resolving itself allegro molto On the surge and flow of experience. Like sonatas bursting in exposition, Clucking and thrusting themselves predictably Through development, it comes to where There are no recapitulations, But where codas do occur. Andantes are long. Their melodies Twining, searching, Contouring, groping, Grovelling through the dust Of everydayness, Can often be boring Unless the cadence Coming unexpectedly early Brings to an end The aimless parleying. The rondo is a throwback: Its themes are childhood The past and change; It recalls these unerringly, Until slowing down It dies of boredom And of age. (Sonata)