| who sharpens every dull... (26) | |
Poem By: E. E. Cummings | Views: 60 | Word Count: 93 | View PDF | Print View |
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who sharpens every dull
here comes the only man
reminding with his bell
to disappear a sun
and out of houses pour
maids mothers widows wives
bringing this visitor
their very oldest lives
one pays him with a smile
another with a tear
some cannot pay at all
he never seems to care
he sharpens is to am
he sharpens say to sing
you'd almost cut your thumb
so right he sharpens wrong
and when their lives are keen
he throws the world a kiss
and slings his wheel upon
his back and off he goes
but we can hear him still
if now our sun is gone
reminding with his bell
to reappear a moon
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About the Author Edward Estlin Cummings (October 14, 1894 – September 3, 1962) was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, to liberal, indulgent parents who from early on encouraged him to develop his creative gifts. While at Harvard, where his father had taught before becoming a Unitarian... Read E. E. Cummings's Full Biography
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