January
Again I reply to the triple winds
running chromatic fifths of derision
outside my window:
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Play louder.
You will not succeed. I am
bound more to my sentences
the more you batter at me
to follow you.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .And the wind,
as before, fingers perfectly
its derisive music.
by William Carlos Williams (1883-1963)
Photo by Christine Klocek-Lim
Leave a Reply