The Hunter Poem by William Carlos Williams
The Hunter
In the flashes and black shadows
of July
the days, locked in each other's arms,
seem still
so that squirrels and colored birds
go about at ease over
the branches and through the air.
Where will a shoulder split or
a forehead open and victory be?
Nowhere.
Both sides grow older.
And you may be sure
not one leaf will lift itself
from the ground
and become fast to a twig again.
Where will a shoulder split or a forehead open and victory be? Nowhere. Both sides grow older...../// superb poem penned
Squirrel or coloured birds, old age certainly makes one ineffective in life indeed! nice one to read!
There's a line of text on the sign with the stag. Anyone know what it says?
Both sides grow older! ! ! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
#94 4 on top 500 poets#....Reading a poem of such a great poet motivates mind. This is definitely a perfect poem of the day. The black shadows flashes in July amazingly.
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10/12/2024 1:47:23 PM # 1.0.0
Well written Mr William