Birds and flowers ( I part.) William Carlos Williams 1883 - 1963

 

I

It is summer, winter, any
time —
no time at all — but delight

the springing up
of those secret flowers
the others imitate and so

become round
extraordinary in petalage
yellow, blue

fluted and globed
slendercrimson
moonshaped —

in clusters on a wall.
Come!
And just now

you will not come, your
ankles
carry you another way, as

thought grown old — or
older — in
your eyes fires them against

me — small flowers
birds flitting here and there
between twigs