2 min read
The Eye
To E
E
CummingsI see the horses and the sad
Of my childhood in an agate
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To E
E
CummingsI see the horses and the sad
Of my childhood in an agate
The Atlantic is a stormy moat; and the Mediterranean,
The blue pool in the old garden,
More than five thousand years has drunk
Of ships and blood, and shines in the sun; but here the Pacific—Our ships, planes, wars are perfectly irr...