Sunday, November 9, 2008


I was looking for a poem about goldfish and french horns that Lindsay and I talked about the other day when I stumbled across this. Billy Collins is one of my favorite poets and I think this poem will capture how I feel tomorrow morning. Happy Monday!

The Only Day In Existence-Billy Collins

The early sun is so pale and shadowy,
I could be looking up at a ghost
in the shape of a window,
a tall, rectangular spirit
looking down at me in bed,
about to demand that I avenge
the murder of my father.
But the morning light is only the first line
in the play of this day--
the only day in existence--
the opening chord of its long song,
or think of what is permeating
the thin bedroom curtains

as the beginning of a lecture
I will listen to until it is dark,
a curious student in a V-neck sweater,
angled into the wooden chair of his life,
ready with notebook and a chewed-up pencil,
quiet as a goldfish in winter,
serious as a compass at sea,
eager to absorb whatever lesson
this damp, overcast Tuesday
has to teach me,
here in the spacious classroom of the world
with its long walls of glass,
its heavy, low-hung ceiling.

1 comment:

espionage said...

I remember the day you picked that Billy Collins book off of the shelf. It was one of those moments when you were just meant to find it at that exact time and become enraptured by it. I love those moments. I love we can share our love for this amazing poet, too.