who are you, little i

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)



e.e. cummings

.
.

and i (being at a window in this midnight)

Take for example this:

if to the colour of midnight
to a more than darkness (which
is myself and Paris and all
things) the bright
rain
occurs deeply,beautifully

and i (being at a window
in this midnight)
for no reason feel
deeply completely conscious of the rain or rather
Somebody who uses roofs and streets skilfully to make a
possible and beautiful sound:

if a (perhaps) clock strikes,in the alive
coolness,very faintly and
finally through altogether delicate gestures of rain

a colour comes,which is morning,O do not wonder that

(just at the edge of day) i surely
make a millionth poem which will not wholly
miss you;or if i certainly create,lady,
one of the thousand selves who are your smile.



Take For Example This
e. e. cummings


..