Gardens

Tuileries Jardins
Favour gravel
More than grass:
Clip conifers
To cones and cubes:
The hard green chairs
Form fours.

In Hyde Park
You smell wet grass
And horse–dung,
And the trees
Stand dreaming
Of a forest ride.

Yet the Tuileries
Saw Revolution
While Hyde Park
Still tolerates a queen.


© The Estate of Dorothy Cowlin 2009–2021. All rights reserved.

This poem is known to have appeared in the following publication:

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