young William Carlos Williams
Thursday
by William Carlos Williams
[from Sour Grapes (1921)]

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. 
 





    

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