Monday, May 11, 2015

Just Because

Just because poetry month is over doesn't mean we have to forget or ignore it until next year.  And so, I present to you a succinct, sweet little poem.

who are you, little i
By E.E. Cummings 

who are you, little i

(five or six years old)
peering from some high

window; at the gold 
of november sunset 

(and feeling that: if day
has to become night

this is a beautiful way)

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