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 fallen
patches of standing water
the scattering of tall trees
All along the road the reddish
purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy
stuff of bushes and small trees
with dead, brown leaves under them
Lifeless in appearance, sluggish
dazed spring approaches...
They enter the new world naked,
cold, uncertain of all
save that thay enter. All about them
the cold familiar wind...
Now the grass, tomorrow
the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf
One by one objects are defined...
It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf
But now the stark dignity of
entrance...Still, the profound change
has come upon them: rooted they
grip down and begin to awaken
William Carlos Williams (1883-1963)
A poison tree
I was Angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
Itold it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night
Till it bored an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree