Just

I'm convinced it's Spring. The calendar and maybe the forecast wants you to think otherwise, but Spring is just as much an inside thing as it is an outside. Spring, to use the brilliance of cummings, is "everything/which is natural which is infinite which is yes." Today it is Spring because my days don't seem quite so dark. Because the world is full of little sprouting yeses and budding truths. It is alive again. There is something about Spring that e.e. cummings understands.

in Just

by e.e. cummings

in Just-

spring when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles far and wee

and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it's

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer

old balloonman whistles

far and wee

and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's

spring

and

the

goat-footed

balloonMan whistles

far

and

wee

as a note: one of the most beautiful things about cummings is how he arranges words on the page. Blogger hasn't figured out how to let us be equally as beautiful yet (which is why there are a few poems I've written that I haven't posted even though I've been asked to). But I couldn't pass up posting this one. It's been in my head all day. However, if you really want the full experience, you just need to see it on the printed page.