Page:Five Poems, E. E. Cummings, 1920.djvu/3

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E. E. Cummings
579

III

but the otherday i was passing a certaingate      rainfell        as it will
in springropesof silver gliding from sunnythunder into freshness
as if god's flowers werepulling upon bells ofgold      i lookedup
andthought to myself        deathand will You withelaborate fingers possibly touch
the pink hollyhock existence whosepansy eyes look from morning tillnight into the streetunchangingly       the always
old lady sitting in hergentle window likea reminiscencepartaken
softly     at whose gate smilealways the chosenflowers of reminding
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