Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Willow Poem

Sour Grapes (1921)
William Carlos Williams

Willow Poem

    It is a willow when summer is over,
    a willow by the river
    from which no leaf has fallen nor
    bitten by the sun
    turned orange or crimson.
    The leaves cling and grow paler,
    swing and grow paler
    over the swirling waters of the river
    as if loath to let go,
    they are so cool, so drunk with
    the swirl of the wind and of the river--
    oblivious to winter,
    the last to let go and fall
    into the water and on the ground.
    William Carlos Williams


Public domain text taken from The Poets' Corner

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