Yours Is the Music for No Instrument, by E. E. Cummings

E. E. Cummings

Yours Is the Music for No Instrument

yours is the music for no instrument

yours the preposterous colour unbeheld

—mine the unbought contemptuous intent

till this our felsh merely shall be excelled

by speaking flower

(if I have made songs

it does not greatly matter to the sun,

nor will rain care

cautiously who prolongs

unserious twilight)Shadows have begun

the hair’s worm huge,ecstatic,rathe….

yours are the poems i do not write.

In this at least we have got a bulge on death,

silence,and the keenly musical light

of sudden nothing….la bocca mia “he

kissed wholly trembling”

or so thought the lady.

#AmericanWriters

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E. E. Cummings