Willow Poem

William Carlos Williams

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It is a willow when summer is over,
a willow by the river
from which no leaf has fallen nor
bitten by the sun
turned orange or crimson.
The leaves cling and grow paler,
swing and grow paler
over the swirling waters of the river
as if loth to let go,
they are so cool, so drunk with
the swirl of the wind and of the river --
oblivious to winter,
the last to let go and fall
into the water and on the ground.

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  • serenityxx1

    Just read "Willow Poem" and can't stop thinking about those "leaves clinging and growing paler." It's so evocative, makes me picture the last days of summer before everything falls and winter begins. There's something bittersweet and almost human about how the leaves are "the last to let go and fall into the water and on the ground." So beautiful, yet melancholic. 🍃🍂