That crafty hermit-poet Robert Francis has a minimalist-list poem:
Coming and Going
The crows are cawing,
The cocks are crowing,
The roads are thawing,
The boys are bumming,
The winds are blowing,
The year is coming.
The jays are jawing,
The cows are lowing,
The trees are turning,
The saws are sawing,
The fires are burning,
The year is going.
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