Friday, September 4, 2009

spring

yesterday was so gorgeous and sunny and bright that i'm getting excited about nicer weather. while winter is great for hot chocolates and curling up in your bed to read a book, spring (and summer) are great for being sprawled on the grass (reading a book) and at the beach (reading a book) and being in the beer garden (usually not with a book, but you could definitely do this)

in honour of spring, here is one of my favourite spring poems

here’s to opening and upward, to leaf and to sap
and to your(in my arms flowering so new)
self whose eyes smell of the sound of rain

and here’s to silent certainly mountains;and to
a disappearing poet of always,snow
and to morning;and to morning’s beautiful friend
twilight(and a first dream called ocean)and

let must or if be damned with whomever’s afraid
down with ought with because with every brain
which thinks it thinks,nor dares to feel(but up
with joy;and up with laughing and drunkenness)

here’s to one undiscoverable guess
of whose mad skill each world of blood is made
(whose fatal songs are moving in the moon


ee cummings

2 comments:

hey anonymousauruses - give yourselves a name. a nom de plume, a nom de blog. it's more fun that way.