January
Again I reply to the triple winds
running chromatic fifths of derision
outside my window:
          Play louder.
You will not succeed. I am
bound more to my sentences
the more you batter at me
to follow you.
           And the wind,
as before, fingers perfectly
its derisive music.
William Carlos Williams
2 comments:
Came across this poem elsewhere today and was reminded how much I love it.
:-)
Post a Comment