WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS
MARCH IS A LIGHT
Upon the dead grass
and houses, the wind
retains its edge, let it —
A light has cut it off
it blows bewilderedly
The grass shakes, the houses
seem, by the lack of foliage
about them, to turn
their angles forward into
the wind to let it pass —
and houses, the wind
retains its edge, let it —
A light has cut it off
it blows bewilderedly
The grass shakes, the houses
seem, by the lack of foliage
about them, to turn
their angles forward into
the wind to let it pass —
Δεν υπάρχουν σχόλια:
Δημοσίευση σχολίου