where I can’t follow and leave
a white seashell.
Cherish me, love me always
and never un-love me,
says the poor husk-thing,
outgrown by you.
Little hovel, passed among growers,
you will always be handled,
marveled for the blue blue blue
very bluegreen waters
all snug inside you.
Carry me around;
I am not uncommon, and will not be taken.
But I am home; a thing to be carried,
Annnnnd something not-mine, which I love:
ordinary wind is winding (cold face blush
by e.e. cummings
ordinary wind is winding(cold face blush
wind is winding here there tomorrow)(
graceful dove wind
theatrical scar wind