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lundi 6 septembre 2010

Perfect morning

This image/collage (all from flickr faves) shown above is called "perfectmorning.jpg" and I'd really love to find the blog where it comes from. ID, please!

This poem is by Billy Collins.

Why do we bother with the rest of the day,
the swale of the afternoon,
the sudden dip into evening,

then night with his notorious perfumes,
his many-pointed stars?

This is the best -
throwing off the light covers,
feet on the cold floor,
and buzzing around the house on espresso -

maybe a splash of water on the face,
a palmful of vitamins -
but mostly buzzing around the house on espresso

dictionary and atlas open on the rug,
the typewriter waiting for the key of the head,
a cello on the radio,

and, if necessary, the windows -
trees fifty, a hundred years old
out there,
heavy clouds on the way
and the lawn steaming like a horse
in the early morning

poem found at ill seen ill said blog right here

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