In summer the song sings itself
The alphabet of the trees is fading in the song of the leaves the crossing bars of the thin letters that spelled winter and the cold have been illuminated with pointed green by the rain and sun— The strict simple principles of straight branches are being modified by pinched-out ifs of color, devout conditions the smiles of love— . . . . . . until the script sentences move as a woman's limbs under cloth and praise from secrecy quick with desire love's ascendancy in summer— In summer the song sings itself above the muffled words— William Carlos Williams
