Author William Carlos Williams upon the dead grass and houses, the wind retains its edge, let it — A light has cut it off it blows bewilderedly The grass shakes, the houses seem, by the lack of foliage about them, to turn their angles forward into the wind to let it pass — Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments