The Wind IncreasesThe harried earth is swept; the trees;the tulip's bright tips sidle and toss -Loose your love to flow - Blow!Good Christ, what is a poet - if any exists?A man whose words will bite their way home - being actual, having the form of motion at each twigtip upon the tortured body of thought; gripping the ground a way to the last leaftip.
-William Carlos Williams
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