Night Poem From Khandro (Mon.)

[Khandro]

The Red Wheelbarrow

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens


WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

[Mamyalynne]

A Doctor too I read, certainly economical with words here.

Mind you, they are precious so why waste them.

[naomi24]

Is there a part 2?

[Smowball]

Shall we carry it on??

[Peter Pedant]

the wheelbarrow - - doesnt exactly drag on, does it?

[Mamyalynne]

I prefer this one of his.

Slow Movement
By: William Carlos Williams
All those treasures that lie in the little bolted box whose tiny space is
Mightier than the room of the stars, being secret and filled with dreams:
All those treasures—I hold them in my hand—are straining continually
Against the sides and the lid and the two ends of the little box in which I guard them;
Crying that there is no sun come among them this great while and that they weary of shining;
Calling me to fold back the lid of the little box and to give them sleep finally.

But the night I am hiding from them, dear friend, is far more desperate than their night!
And so I take pity on them and pretend to have lost the key to the little house of my treasures;
For they would die of weariness were I to open it, and not be merely faint and sleepy
As they are now.