Monday, September 24, 2012

fall!





Danse Russe

BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS
If I when my wife is sleeping
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,—
if I in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my mirror
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
“I am lonely, lonely.
I was born to be lonely,
I am best so!”
If I admire my arms, my face,
my shoulders, flanks, buttocks
against the yellow drawn shades,—

Who shall say I am not
the happy genius of my household?

2 comments:

Christine said...

Love the picture ... and do love that poem!

Chaty Lorens said...

Thanks for sharing that great poem.