[in just-], e.e. cummings great poem of spring

[in Just-]

BY E. E. CUMMINGS

in Just-

spring          when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles          far          and wee

and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it's

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer

old balloonman whistles

far          and             wee

and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's

spring

and

         the

                  goat-footed

balloonMan          whistles

far

and

wee

Spring has sprung (but not quite in Seattle) - William Carlos Williams' poem Spring And All

by William Carlos Williams

I

By the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast-a cold wind.  Beyond, the
waste of broad, muddy fields
brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen

patches of standing water
the scattering of tall trees

All along the road the reddish
purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy
stuff of bushes and small trees
with dead, brown leaves under them
leafless vines-

Lifeless in appearance, sluggish
dazed spring approaches-

They enter the new world naked,
cold, uncertain of all
save that they enter.  All about them
the cold, familiar wind-

Now the grass, tomorrow
the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf
One by one objects are defined-
It quickens:  clarity, outline of leaf


But now the stark dignity of
entrance-Still, the profound change
has come upon them:  rooted, they
grip down and begin to awaken

                ---o0o---

Poem: The first blossoms, leaves, and shoots of spring

By Jack Brummet

The dappled grey, mottled rust,
And crumbling mustard leaves and fronds
Tumble to the beckoning loam in the fall,

Sinking to the brown earth
Like we all do
Sooner or later,

But they do it every year,
Reincarnated in green 

For one more run at life above the earth.

            ---o0o---

[in Just-] (spring) by e.e. cummings

[in Just-]

by e.e. cummings

in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame baloonman

whistles far and wee

and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer
old baloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's
spring
and
the

goat-footed

baloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
---o0o---

Poem: Late Spring

The wind has taken the blossoms
And the fruit is set.
The roots that clutch,

Hanging onto the globe
And the branches reaching out,
Rising to the nimbostratus clouds

Are lodged in the troposphere.
In between earthbound roots
And limbs reaching for the stars

Are us, and our cousins
Clad in fin, fur, flesh and feather.
We must be in heaven

And if we're not
We're growing one
Right here, right now.
---o0o---