Today I'm thinking about change. Our apartment is packed up, everything is down off the walls, and those walls are painted back to their original tan state. In short, it doesn't really feel like it's truly our place anymore. It's funny how that goes - how home can be so decidedly and surely one place - but then you can change that in a moment. So. On we go. On life goes. "[W]ith up so floating many bells down", life goes on. Round and round, from season to season. Some things stay the same....things like the seasons, the weather, birth, growing up, love, death. But everything else....it changes. As Kurt Vonnegut reminds us in Slaughterhouse Five reminds us: "And so it goes".
"anyone lived in a pretty how town" by e.e. cummings
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did
Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
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