---

William Carlos Williams - Primrose
Work rating: Low

Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow! 
It is not a color. 
It is summer! 
It is the wind on a willow, 
the lap of waves, the shadow 
under a bush, a bird, a bluebird, 
three herons, a dead hawk 
rotting on a pole— 
Clear yellow! 
It is a piece of blue paper 
in the grass or a threecluster of 
green walnuts swaying, children 
playing croquet or one boy 
fishing, a man 
swinging his pink fists 
as he walks— 
It is ladysthumb, forget-me-nots 
in the ditch, moss under 
the flange of the carrail, the 
wavy lines in split rock, a 
great oaktree— 
It is a disinclination to be 
five red petals or a rose, it is 
a cluster of birdsbreast flowers 
on a red stem six feet high, 
four open yellow petals 
above sepals curled 
backward into reverse spikes— 
Tufts of purple grass spot the 
green meadow and clouds the sky.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.