no, I haven't found it yet.
it sounds wonderful though.
but maybe I'm on the road which leads there?
maybe it's only in creation:
in books or movies.
music.
pens and brushes.
or maybe it's just around the dinner table,
in laughter and conversation.
or gardens in the airy light of morning,
wide empty fields lit by starlight.
cummings thought it was springtime.
personally, I think it might be on the other side of the moon.
you know, the side you can't see.
the side that is all mine.
1 comment:
As if I don't love everything you write enough, you have to go and reference one of my favorite cummings poems.
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