Poem by Edward Estlin Cummings

* * *

the bigness of cannon
is skilful,
 
but i have seen
death’s clever enormous voice
which hides in a fragility
of poppies. . . .
 
i say that sometimes
on these long talkative animals
are laid fists of huger silence.
 
I have seen all the silence
filled with vivid noiseless boys
 
at Roupy
i have seen
between barrages,
 
the night utter ripe unspeaking girls.

1. hist whist
2. the boys i mean are not refined
3. when serpents bargain
4. when life is quite through with
5. my father moved through dooms of love

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