A walk in the park

a park keeper told me what the earth is

cockle shells and weather dust and dead beds

a face for the bountiful world

which we must of necessity break in pieces

with words and blows and a degree of madness

but what is the unhappiness in that if the light is good

surely the land will never suffer it is so great still

and every bird so quiet like a hole the rain drowned

this talk I understand in crayon dancing but deadly full

I hide in sleep a folly that I bring myself to see as true