Spring Storm
by William Carlos Williams
The sky has given over
its bitterness.
Out of the dark change
all day long
rain falls and falls
as if it would never end.
Still the snow keeps
its hold on the ground.
But water, water is seething
from a thousand runnels.
It collects swiftly,
dappled with black
cuts a way for itself
through green ice in the gutters.
Drop after drop it falls
from the withered grass stems
of the overhanging embankment.
* * * *
Flurries all morning, sticking a bit to the road, and I have lots of places to which I must drive. Wish I had snow tires. Wish I could just sit inside and watch the snow fall.
Wish I could sleep, like the people who rule the world.
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