why untitled, unwritten?

I once labeled everything before it was written, until I found it kept too many words away. Now I am leaving the unwritten untitled, until it grows into a name.

Friday, May 25, 2012

No. 33



With our second anniversary behind us and a wedding before us, love of the lifelong kind is filling my mind right now.  I left you a poem on Tuesday, from Neruda, which was easy to choose--it was perfect, one of those things you encounter and know exactly what to do with it.

Today--or rather, tonight, as I'm writing this post for tomorrow morning--no specific poems came to mind.  So I tumbled around, wished I'd brought one of my anthologies with me to Lexington, and finally found the right words for the weekend.  I should've started with E.E. Cummings.

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1 comment:

Dizzy Lizzie said...

I love cummings! I love this poem. It is so simple and complete...