Midweek Meditation

into the strenuous briefness

Life:

handorgans and April

darkness,friends

i charge laughing.

Into the hair-thin tints

of yellow dawn,

into the women-coloured twilight

i smilingly

glide.  I

into the big vermilion departure

swim,sayingly;

(Do you think?)the

i do,world

is probably made

of roses and hello:

(of solongs and,ashes)

— e.e. cummings