Cummings at Silver Lake

E.E. Cummings’ poem about Joy Farm

perished have safe small
facts of hilltop
(barn house wellsweep
forest & clearing)
gone are enormous
near far silent
truths of mountain
(strolling is there here
everywhere fairyair
feelable heavenless
warm sweet mistfully
whispering rainlife)
infinite also
ourselves exist sans
shallbe or was
(laws clocks fears hopes
beliefs compulsions
doubts & corners)
worlds are to dream now
dreams are to breathe

E.E. Cummings (CP 755)