If I had my way, dear,
all these fears, these insistent
blurs of discontent would fade,
and there be
old-time meadows
with brown and white cows,
and those boulders,
still in mind, marked
the solid world. I'd
show you these ridiculous,
simple happinesses, the wonders
I've kept hold on
to steady the world-
the brook, the woods,
the paths, the clouds, the house
I live in,
with the big barn
with my father's sign on it: