Complaint

They call me and I go.
It is a frozen road
past midnight, a dust
of snow caught
in the rigid wheeltracks.
The door opens.
I smile, enter and
shake off the cold.
Here is a great woman
on her side in the bed.
She is sick,
perhaps vomiting,
perhaps laboring
to give birth to
a tenth child. Joy! Joy!
Night is a room
darkened for lovers,
through the jalousies the sun
has sent one golden needle!
I pick the hair from her eyes
and watch her misery
with compassion.

by William Carlos Williams

Comments (1)

He gives dynamics to his scene through his choice of image, through his choice of words, through the staccato approach.... but I am left wondering if that doctor brings comfort to his patients or does he watch them like the Grim Reaper without the grim?