Later this month, on the 22nd, poet Billy Collins will be celebrating his 76th birthday. Bloggers are celebrating a little early by posting poems by Bill Collins, today. The one I'm sharing is a recent discovery that I love for its whimsy and for the unasked question with which it leaves the reader.
The Flying NotebookHeidi at My Juicy Little Universe is hosting the Poetry Friday Round-Up. I can guarantee there will be more Billy Collins poems!
With its spiraling metal body
and white pages for wings,
my notebook flies over my bed while I sleep--
a bird full of quotations and tiny images
who loves the night’s dark rooms,
glad now to be free of my scrutiny and my pen point.
Tomorrow, it will go with me
into the streets where I may stop to look
at my reflection in a store window,
and later I may break a piece of bread
at a corner table in a restaurant
then scribble something down.
But tonight it flies around me in circles
sailing through a column of moonlight,
then beating its paper wings even more,
once swooping so low
as to ripple the surface of a lake
in a dream in which I happen to be drowning.
From The Trouble With Poetry and Other Poems, (Random House, 2005).