"En Route."
A bend in the road slows our [? hurl ?] past one cow,
a white cupola topped house, a croquet lawn, and yawning barn.
A stout woman is there on the lawn,
in a rocking chair, and a stout girl who is
wearing a bright pink blouse.
Elms in a tree of heaven shade all.
At their backs, a bed of larkspur borders the wall.
The fastness, the fullness, of now creases their [? laps. ?]
As we go by, the elms gather dust.
Life is mangled.
We breached the shy fence of trust
with a curious, cruel eye, then refer to road maps.