^^10/2020^^ poetry Monday

January by William Carlos Williams

Again I reply to the triple winds 
running chromatic fifths of derision 
outside my window: 
Play louder. 
You will not succeed. I am 
bound more to my sentences 
the more you batter at me 
to follow you. 
And the wind, 
as before, fingers perfectly 
its derisive music. 

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