Sonnet in Seach of an Author (William Carlos Williams)

I'd never heard of this poem by William Carlos Williams. My loss. I like it rather a lot.

It tells of a scene - two nudes under a tree and then lists, in building intensity, how each object that he filled his scene with in the first half of the poem can be described with the same word. To continue, the same word, but each telling brings to mind a different description. The odor of  pine needles is distinct from the odor of a man. The reader brings their own knowledge, their own interpretation to fill in the scene.

This poem, which in its title admits how it it searching for an author, makes each reader that missing one. Does that make this poem an ars poetica? Or an ars all-of-writing-ica?

God, I think I love this poem.

Favorite line: "a sonnet might be made of it"