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poems and photographs 458

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another poem and photograph every weekday. Or so.

(photographs: Tom Davis)


 

 

 

 

Much theatre this week, so only one image. But a nice one: this appeared on my walk, in the middle of a grey wet day.

 

 

 

Thursday, January 25, 2018

 

early spring

 

 

 

 

as Spring opens


somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens


from e. e. cummings, somewhere i have never travelled.

 

 

 

 

 


 

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