Kate found a poem that I can't get out of my head. It's for you fellow morning-lovers ~

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


Johnny! said...

Hellz yeah expresso.

Laura Leigh Dobson said...

i love this. . . i have become a morning person since getting married. even when i have the opportunity to sleep in (when visiting friends and family). . i always tend to be the first one up. . i just love that part of the day as a general rule. . not that i never sleep in. .
love this poem. .