making terms
It's a grey day, unusual for May, a growling-thunder day, rain hissing down on the leaves. I woke up this morning with a burning need to hear the Safety Dance. I've been ill the past few days, but it must be worse than I thought.
Where's Madge then,
Madge and her men?
buried with
Alice in her hair,
(but if you ask the rain
he'll not tell where.)
beauty makes terms
with time and his worms,
when loveliness
says sweetly Yes
to wind and cold;
and how much earth
is Madge worth?
Inquire of the flower that sways in the autumn
she will never guess.
but i know
my heart fell dead before.
-e.e. cummings, "Where's Madge then".
Where's Madge then,
Madge and her men?
buried with
Alice in her hair,
(but if you ask the rain
he'll not tell where.)
beauty makes terms
with time and his worms,
when loveliness
says sweetly Yes
to wind and cold;
and how much earth
is Madge worth?
Inquire of the flower that sways in the autumn
she will never guess.
but i know
my heart fell dead before.
-e.e. cummings, "Where's Madge then".