Nancy Willard Poems

Who is this fish, still wearing its wealth,
flat on my drainboard, dead asleep,
its suit of mail proof only against the stream?
What is it to live in a stream,
...

The dragonfly at rest on the doorbell—
too weak to ring and glad of it,
but well mannered and cautious,
...

'Ah, William, we're weary of weather,'
said the sunflowers, shining with dew.
'Our traveling habits have tired us.
...