Into your eyes they forged the misconception
You would be something more if you listened. Taught
Servility instead of self discovery

And its rashness to bring forth acquaintance
In an instant. It’s not the nonexistent truth
But the laborious awakening

Expression. And if we contradict too much
One of us will ramble off, the cautious interchange
Of learning, of conversion, vanishing

Until it becomes the artless echo
Of another smothered sound. I mention this over
And over; the place we go again

To crawl in the indifferent space
Of corners, squirreling blue hyacinth
And grass; the grace of spaced out green

My lungs inhaled and ached for admiration;
The space where worn-out countryside becomes
A dear metropolis. These precious spots

Do not withdraw in silence, and it may well be
Will not lay still. The way we learn to loathe
Our account, only to follow the motion

One by one, away into the headland
And the distant smile of strangers holding tell tale signs
They have been looking too long at the outcome

Of a gradual decline.