for Valerie, after reading her Facebook post of “your little voice” by e.e. cummings
dear girl
your voice
not at all little
but cumulonimbly blooming
out of silence
how crazy
I was
when all day
that flat impertinent
battery, no,
would not would not
transform air
into leaps
of conversing we;
it wouldcouldn’t
spring nor sprang
nor sprunk from its death
and I, petal eared,
my stirrups giddy-up-less,
awaited the rain
of your words
but I was left
un-
called
left un-
quenched
right
un-
merry
and altogether
too , too
un-