Memory Of April

You say love is this, love is that:
Poplar tassels, willow tendrils
the wind and the rain comb,
tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip--
branches drifting apart. Hagh!
Love has not even visited this country.

by William Carlos Williams

Comments (1)

I think what William's meant by this is if you've never felt love, then you don't know what's so great about it.