I could, perhaps, be accused of overusing and abusing certain words. "Love" may or may not be one of those words. I'll leave that for you to decide. What I do know for certain is that Billy Collins gets it.
And I love him for it.
Aimless Love
by Billy Collins
This morning as I walked along the lakeshore,
I fell in love with a wren
and later in the day with a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.
In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailor’s window,
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.
This is the best kind of love, I thought,
without recompense, without gifts,
(Read the rest here, at The Poetry Foundation.)
The round up today is at I Think in Poems.
3 comments:
What a great poem! A perfectly sound reason for over-using the word "love"! I love to see the many details of daily life in which he delights. :)
You had me at Billy Collins! "My heart is always standing on its tripod, ready for the next arrow." Me too, Billy.
Patricia, his delight is indeed infectious.
Ruth, I'm always gotten at Billy Collins. :)
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