Gray Room in  General   

Although you sit in a room that is gray,
Except for the silver
Of the straw-paper,
And pick
At your pale white gown;
Or lift one of the green beads
Of your necklace,
To let it fall;
Or gaze at your green fan
Printed with the red branches of a red willow;
Or, with one finger,
Move the leaf in the bowl--
The leaf that has fallen from the branches of the forsythia
Beside you...
What is all this?
I know how furiously your heart is beating.

By Wallace Stevens

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Other poems by Wallace Stevens:

• A High-Toned Old Christian Woman
• A Postcard From The Volcano
• A Rabbit As King Of The Ghosts
• Anecdote Of The Jar
• Bantams In Pine-Woods
• Continual Conversation With A Silent Man
• Domination Of Black
• Final Soliloquy Of The Interior Paramour
• Gray Room
• Looking Across The Fields And Watching The Birds F
• Metaphors Of A Magnifico
• Nomad Exquisite
• Not Ideas About The Thing But The Thing Itself
• Of Modern Poetry
• Peter Quince At The Clavier
• Poem Written At Morning
• Six Significant Landscapes
• Sunday Morning
• Tattoo
• The Emperor Of Ice-Cream
• The House Was Quiet And The World Was Calm
• The Idea Of Order At Key West
• The Planet On The Table
• The Poem That Took The Place Of A Mountain
• The River Of Rivers In Connecticut
• The Sense Of The Sleight-Of-Hand Man
• The Snow Man
• The Well Dressed Man With A Beard
• Thirteen Ways Of Looking At A Blackbird
• To The One Of Fictive Music
• Valley Candle

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