by William Carlos Williams
The green-blue ground
is ruled silver lines
to say the sun is shining
And on this moral sea
of grass or dreams lie flowers
or baskets of desires
Heaven knows what they are
between cerulean shapes
leave regularly round
Mat roses and tridentate*
leaves of gold
threes, threes and threes
Three roses and three stems
the basket floating
standing in the horns of blue
Repeating to the ceiling
to the windows
where the day
Blows in
the scalloped curtains to
the sound of rain
*three-pronged
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