in Spring comes

I didn't have the heart to knock these whimsical creations from the side of the house. I know July doesn't count as spring and cicadas are summer phenomena, but these photos harmonize with this e.e. cummings poem in a way my voice never will.

in

Spring comes(no
one
asks his name

a mender
of things

with eager
fingers(with
patient
eyes)re

-new-

ing remaking what
other
-wise we should
have
thrown a-

way(and whose

brook
-bright flower-
soft bird
-quick voice loves

children
and sunlight and

mountains)in april(but
if he should
Smile)comes

nobody'll know