An Evening with Mr. Williams

I spent the last couple of hours with Mr. William Carlos Williams , soaking in his brevity and simplicity while listening to the rain. We had a splendid conversation about imagery and finding truth in the small things. Here's just a bit of what was said:

Mr. Williams wrote:

As the cat
climbed over
the top of

the jamcloset
first the right
forefoot

carefully
then the hind
stepped down

into the pit of
the empty
flowerpot


And I responded in like style:

"Gardening in Late March"

bent she is
a blossom
a flower

working soil
the humus
afresh

with the waft
of moist earth
and worms

and the tips of
her pigtails
trowling it

"The Scholar's Poem"

he sings as
he tasks at
his homework

a constant hum
emits from
the room

and the couch
creaks ceaseless
beneath

as he ponders
the weight
of his world


"The Rain's Unnerving Song"

The rain drains
resounding
through pipes

working my nerves
it is seeping
through walls

the soffits
sit soft in
the damp

and the weight of
the water
wills weeping


"Ice Storm"

ice brings limbs
landward
much like us

freezing the clock
hands on the
half-hour

with brittle
limbs ticking
time toward

tough branches that
snap askew
we prune back