Sour Grapes (1921)
by
William Carlos Williams

The Tulip Bed

    The May sun--whom
    all things imitate--
    that glues small leaves to
    the wooden trees
    shone from the sky
    through bluegauze clouds
    upon the ground.
    Under the leafy trees
    where the suburban streets
    lay crossed,
    with houses on each corner,
    tangled shadows had begun
    to join
    the roadway and the lawns.
    With excellent precision
    the tulip bed
    inside the iron fence
    upreared its gaudy
    yellow, white and red,
    rimmed round with grass,
    reposedly.

Sources:

Public domain text taken from The Poets’ Corner:
http://www.theotherpages.org/poems/wcw-sg3.html#42

CST Approved.

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