Oct 282013
 

Dawn

Ecstatic bird songs pound
the hollow vastness of the sky
with metallic clinkings–
beating color up into it
at a far edge,–beating it, beating it
with rising, triumphant ardor,–
stirring it into warmth,
quickening in it a spreading change,–
bursting wildly against it as
dividing the horizon, a heavy sun
lifts himself–is lifted–
bit by bit above the edge
of things,–runs free at last
out into the open–! lumbering
glorified in full release upward–
songs cease.

                           –William Carlos Williams

Oct 262013
 

Thursday

I have had my dream–like others–
and it has come to nothing, so that
I remain now carelessly
with feet planted on the ground
and look up at the sky–
feeling my clothes about me,
the weight of my body in my shoes
the rim of my hat, air passing in and out
at my nose–and decide to dream no more.

–William Carlos Williams