The Thinker

Poem By William Carlos Williams

My wife's new pink slippers
have gay pompons.
There is not a spot or a stain
on their satin toes or their sides.
All night they lie together
under her bed's edge.
Shivering I catch sight of them
and smile, in the morning.
Later I watch them
descending the stair,
hurrying through the doors
and round the table,
moving stiffly
with a shake of their gay pompons!
And I talk to them
in my secret mind
out of pure happiness.

Comments about The Thinker

Gave me chills. and i dont know why
And I talk to them in my secret mind out of pure happiness. Trivial life can inspire the author of true, unbridled part of thought.
Something I find hilarious about this poem.


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