Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere) arranging
a window,into which people look (while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and
changing everything carefully
spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carefully to
and fro moving New and
Old things,while
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and
without breaking anything.
e.e. Cummings
i love this poem and its so Jase!
He bookmarked it in an e.e. Cummings anthology with a post-it: “Ted, This is the poem.” I don’t know Ted, but I love the poem too… yes, so Jase.