Thursday, February 24, 2005

Waiting

Sour Grapes (1921)
by
William Carlos Williams


Waiting

When I am alone I am happy.
The air is cool. The sky is
flecked and splashed and wound
with color. The crimson phalloi
of the sassafras leaves
hang crowded before me
in shoals on the heavy branches.
When I reach my doorstep
I am greeted by
the happy shrieks of my children
and my heart sinks.
I am crushed
Are not my children as dear to me
as falling leaves or
most one become stupid
to grow older?
It seems much as if Sorrow
had tripped up my heels.
Let us see, let us see!
What did I plan to say to her
when it should happen to me
as it has happened now?

--William Carlos Williams




Public domain text taken from The Poets' Corner

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