Says the Writer of Ecclesiastes

A Terza Rima Sonnet

So everything has been given a name:
estuaries, labradors, rain, stars, wrens
lilacs, espresso, grass, windows, and cranes...

Fine. What gets me, I guess, is the reason,
the point, for all these things in the first place
when they always only last a season!

Given and snatched away: name, season, face...
waste! the woes of we who worry for naught
a sad tactic bringing only disgrace.

The true thing that we have all really sought
is to stop the damn madness of naming
and, for once, just sit and enjoy the names

The names, the seasons, the faces. What shame
that the little we know of anything
we are tempted to let it become fame!

Ruthless virus just grabs from us what seems
was once something noble, something of worth
and exploits it, exploits us, and then gleans

What little is left of our noble birth.
Take care to keep at least a bit of mirth!