THE WIDOW'S LAMENT IN SPRINGTIME

by: William Carlos Williams (1883-1963)

      ORROW is my own yard
      where the new grass
      flames as it has flamed
      often before but not
      with the cold fire
      that closes round me this year.
      Thirtyfive years
      I lived with my husband.
      The plumtree is white today
      with masses of flowers.
      Masses of flowers
      load the cherry branches
      and color some bushes
      yellow and some red
      but the grief in my heart
      is stronger than they
      for though they were my joy
      formerly, today I notice them
      and turned away forgetting.
      Today my son told me
      that in the meadows,
      at the edge of the heavy woods
      in the distance, he saw
      trees of white flowers.
      I feel that I would like
      to go there
      and fall into those flowers
      and sink into the marsh near them.

MORE POEMS BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

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