The Act, William Carlos Williams
There were the roses, in the rain.
Don’t cut them, I pleaded. They won’t last, she said.
But they’re so beautiful where they are.
Agh, we were all beautiful once, she said,
and cut them and gave them to me in my hand.
-
outdarethenight liked this
-
acqua-di-mare liked this
-
taylermaybe reblogged this from poetry365
-
wanderdustandstarlust liked this
-
wanderdustandstarlust reblogged this from poetry365
-
poetry-theywrote reblogged this from poetry365
-
theinternetlovemachine reblogged this from poetry365
-
nodnarb liked this
-
lilabird liked this
-
patrickwilson reblogged this from poetry365
-
aflashinthedark reblogged this from poetry365
-
raze reblogged this from poetry365
-
epigenes reblogged this from poetry365
-
butteschaumont liked this
-
fiveyearmission liked this
-
mizzchelle liked this
-
sopranocat reblogged this from poetry365
-
gymnasticalcupcake liked this
-
sleepanddream reblogged this from poetry365
-
poetry365 posted this
