A drawn bow trembling

Let’s make this a month for e e cummings’ poetry, shall we?

With this one he even used capitalization and normal punctuation! How very odd…

What is thy mouth to me?
A cup of sorrowful incense,
A tree of keen leaves,
An eager high ship,
A quiver of superb arrows.

What is thy breast to me?
A flower of new prayer,
A poem of firm light,
A well of cool birds,
A drawn bow trembling.

What is thy body to me?
A theatre of perfect silence,
A chariot of red speed;
And O, the dim feet
Of white-maned desires!

 

(e e cummings)

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