The Triumph of Tenacity Over Nature. (Sunday's Poem Number 6)

Spring is like a perhaps hand

by E. E. Cummings


Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere)arranging
a window,into which people look(while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and

changing everything carefully

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Yesterday's morning snowfall melted away in the afternoon and then refroze this morning on the steps, making me have to walk carefully when I went out to get the paper, and then walk carefully again when I left with my coffee to go to the office.

But it didn't matter that there was ice on the stairs. When snow melts away in an afternoon, spring is on the way, no matter how hard winter clings.

And it didn't matter that I was going to the office before I read the Sunday paper, because the comics in the Sunday paper are pretty awful.

Sunday's Poem Number 5, here.