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.
The Country
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.
5 comments:
HA!
I would NEVER sleep after that.
"Who could fail to notice,
lit up in the blazing insulation,
the tiny looks of wonderment on the faces
of his fellow mice, onetime inhabitants
of what once was your house in the country?"
I just love that conclusion.
There can never be too much Billy Collins. Thank you for the weekly sample.
In a cabin in our mountains, we secured "everything" from the mice. They took/ate whatever they could get their little paws on! Love this, but it is scary-that line "of what once was your house in the country"! How does he do it? Thank you!
it could happen!
Post a Comment