Beauty is momentary in the mind.- The fitful tracing of a portal; But in the flesh it is immortal. The Body dies; the body's beauty lives. So evenings die, in their green going, A wave, interminably flowing. So gardens die, their meek breath scenting The cowl of Winter, done repenting.
edward estlin cummings oh, my heart leaps: born cambridge, MA 105 years ago harvard paris 900 poems... ingenuity. Arranging feelings; words; syllables; punctuation on paper a celebration of magic love passion Godsky life OH joy of being alive! sweetness thank You.