But The Other Poem By Ee Cumming
but the other
day i was passing a certain
gate rain
fell as it willin spring
ropes
of silver gliding from sunny
thunder into freshnessas if god’s flowers were
pulling upon bells of
gold i looked
upand
thought to myself death
and will You with
elaborate fingers possibly touchthe pink hollyhock existence whose
pansy eyes look from morning till
night into the street
unchangingly the alwaysold lady sitting in her
gentle window like
a reminiscence
partaken,softly at whose gate smile,
always the chosen,
flowers of reminding
English