Friday, September 25, 2009

who are you, little i

While waiting for Part V to be written and posted, enjoy this poem by E.E. Cummings. A big time fave of mine.

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)