Once I am sure there’s nothing go
I step inside, letting the door th
Another church: matting, seats, an
And little books; sprawlings of fl
For Sunday, brownish now; some br

Green-shadowed people sit, or walk
Their children finger the awakened
Calmly a cloud stands, calmly a bi
And, flashing like a dangled-looki
Sun lights the balls that bounce,

Beyond the dark cartoons
Are darker spaces where
Small cloudy nests of stars
Seem to float on air.
These have no proper names:

Is it for now or for always,
The world hangs on a stalk?
Is it a trick or a trysting—place,
The woods we have found to walk?
Is it a mirage or miracle,

That note you hold, narrowing and
Like New Orleans reflected on the
And in all ears appropriate falseh
Building for some a legendary Qua
Of balconies, flower—baskets and q

How distant, the departure of youn
Down valleys, or watching
The green shore past the salt—whit
Rising and falling.
Cattlemen, or carpenters, or keen

At once whatever happened starts r
Panting, and back on board, we lin
With trousers ripped, light wallet
Yes, gone, thank God! Remembering
We toss for half the night, but fi

The wind blew all my wedding—day,
And my wedding—night was the night
And a stable door was banging, aga
That he must go and shut it, leavi
Stupid in candlelight, hearing rai

In this dream that dogs me I am p
Of a silent crowd walking under a
Leaving a football match, perhaps,
All moving the same way. After a
A second wall closes on our right,

Once I believed in you,
And then you came,
Unquestionably new, as fame
Had said you were. But that was l
You launched no argument,