“4th of July”
by
William Carlos Williams
I
The ship moves
but its smoke
moves with the wind
faster than the ship
— thick coils of it
through leafy trees
pressing
upon the river
II
The heat makes
this place of the woods
a room
in which two robins pain
crying
distractedly
over the plight of
their unhappy young
III
During the explosions
at dawn, the celebrations
I could hear
a native cuckoo
in the distance
as at dusk, before
I’d heard
a night hawk calling
Biblioklept 