the sky a silver
dissonance by the correct
fingers of April
resolved
 
              into a
clutter of trite jewels
 
now like a moth with stumbling
 
wings flutters and flops along the
grass collides with trees and
houses and finally,
butts into the river

  • 0
  • 0
  •  
  •  
Login to comment...
Email

Other works by E. E. Cummings...