when the world is mud-luscious

puddlewonderful

In Just-

  spring   when the world is mud-

  luscious the little

  lame balloonman

 

  whistles   far   and wee

 

  and eddieandbill come

  running from marbles and

  piracies and it’s

  spring

 

  when the world is puddle-wonderful

 

  the queer

  old balloonman whistles

  far   and   wee

  and bettyandisbel come dancing

 

  from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

 

  it’s

  spring

  and

     the

 

        goat-footed

 

  balloonMan   whistles

  far

  and

  wee

 

 — ee cummings

sidewalk

It’s not spring.
Far from it. Far.
But it was a very ee cummings kind of a day — lovely, crazy, zany to have 65 degree weather in the not-quite-middle of a Chicago February. Where was the snow? The driving sleet and hail? The icestorms? They seemed like a dream we’d all awoken from this morning as the Nature smiled and we all smiled, too. And walked to school and work. We laughed and chased around pretending to be kites in the stiff breezes. We ogled and explored the enormous mudbanks and slush piles and all the debris the melting snow revealed.
It truly felt like spring, or perhaps it was only spring’s cousin, hope. 

running
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