e. e. Cummings Poem

Post Impressions I

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windows go orange in the slowly.
town,      night
featherly swifts
the
      Dark on us
all;
      stories told returned

      gather

      the

Again:who danc      ing
goes utter      ly

churning
witty, twitters

                       upon Our

(ta-te-ta in a parenthesis!said the moon)

Post Impressions IV
Portraits XVI

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