Lippold wanted To create a memorial
Something large enough to walk through
Like architecture, linear
Otherwise nonfunctional

Like a novel
Like the story of your life
Like Dahlberg's garden
Full of bucolic delights

So what did it mean
When Dahlberg changed his mind
Sweet creeks and leaves
Changed to serpentine trees and vines

Like a novel
A writer should dig out
The things that they would not
Admit to themself

That's what Olsen said
A disillusioned student put it more simply
There's not enough character here
And too much personality