if i could go back in time(when you

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
e.e. cummings



if i could go back in time(when you
were mine;i was yours) would i find
the(right)words to undo the wrong
and let them fall,like drops of rain

(when an hourglass shatters,sands
stop sifting the minutes we count
as days between then and now) i
have spun instead the silken years

around the (beating seconds) spindle
of my heart,each a thread to bind
me,and,you (apart together) still
i journey back to your everywaking

(a sundial moves not, but shadows do)
morning,where you again take me

Day 17 ~ TIME

Sanaa is our host in The Imaginary Garden today, reminding us we are Somewhere in the midst of stirring April.

If I had to choose my favourite poet of all time, it would be cummings. He blew the lid off poetic norms, and rewrote the patterns of verse so distinctly than none could ever come close to emulating his art with any authenticity. Thus it is with extreme caution that I offer my attempt at a cummings' sonnet.