Snow:
years of anger following
hours that
float idly down --
the blizzard
drifts its
weight
deeper and
deeper for three days
or sixty years, eh? Then
the sun! a clutter of
yellow and blue flakes --
Hairy looking trees stand out
in long alleys
over
a wild solitude.
The man turns and there --
his solitary track stretched out
upon the world.
- William Carlos Williams
Editor's Note: From Sour Grapes: A Book of Poems (1921).
CST Approved