Friday, June 21, 2013
Okay, I know I post an inordinate amount of Billy Collins.
But seriously, could you read this poem and then not post it?
I didn't think so.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go secure our matches.
by Billy Collins
I wondered about you
when you told me never to leave
a box of wooden, strike-anywhere matches
lying around the house because the mice
might get into them and start a fire.
But your face was absolutely straight
(Read the rest here, at The Writer's Almanac.)
The round up this week is at Carol's Corner.