When I am alone I am happy. <br />The air is cool. The sky is <br />flecked and splashed and wound <br />with color. The crimson phalloi <br />of the sassafras leaves <br />hang crowded before me <br />in shoals on the heavy branches. <br />When I reach my doorstep <br />I am greeted by <br />the happy shrieks of my children <br />and my heart sinks. <br />I am crushed. <br /> <br />Are not my children as dear to me <br />as falling leaves or <br />must one become stupid <br />to grow older? <br />It seems much as if Sorrow <br />had tripped up my heels. <br />Let us see, let us see! <br />What did I plan to say to her <br />when it should happen to me <br />as it has happened now?<br /><br />William Carlos Williams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/waiting/
