Author William Carlos Williams Wanderer moonsmiling afaintly ironical smileat thisbrilliant, dew-moistenedsummer morning,—a detachedsleepily indifferentsmile, awanderer's smile,—if I shouldbuy a shirtyour color andput on a necktiesky-bluewhere would they carry me? Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 2.8 (4 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments