While waiting for Part V to be written and posted, enjoy this poem by E.E. Cummings. A big time fave of mine.
who are you, little i
(five or six years old)
peering from some high
window; at the gold
of november sunset
(and feeling: that if day
has to become night
this is a beautiful way)
2 comments:
LOVE his poetry--thanks for sharing and reminding me of simpler days.
While looking on line for The Ivanhoe of my childhood, I came across your blog. Going to dinner at the Ivanhoe with my family is a wonderfully vivid memory of my childhood. It sounds like your childhood paraelled mine in many way. My memory includes a waiter that would entertain us by this antics. I have sent your blog address to my siblings, it will be good to compare memories.
Thanks,
Linda Westfall
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