Williams
March 30, 2008
Spring and All
By William Carlos Williams
By the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, the
waste of broad, muddy fields
brown with dried weeds, standing and fallenpatches of standing water
the scattering of tall treesAll along the road the reddish
purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy
stuff of bushes and small trees
with dead, brown leaves under them
leafless vines—Lifeless in appearance, sluggish
dazed spring approaches—They enter the new world naked,
cold, uncertain of all
save that they enter. All about them
the cold, familiar wind—Now the grass, tomorrow
the stiff curl of wildcarrot leafOne by one objects are defined—
It quickens: clarity, outline of leafBut now the stark dignity of
entrance—Still, the profound change
has come upon them: rooted they
grip down and begin to awaken
[1923]
Link: Williams: "Spring and All".
March 30, 2008 in Dead Poets, Flora, Going into the Woods, Spring, Williams | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Recent Comments