Inspired with Simplicity

Another Thing I really Like About Billy Collins is His Poetry Isn’t a Damn Mystery.

It’s straight and tells

A story or a scene

Maybe with a bowl of tangerines

Or cereal milk sliding off a spoon.

I hear him walking over hardwood

Floors, a creak slightly sounding

As he warms a hand around a cup a

Tea. A gaze out the window pane.

The window is old, and likely warbles the view

Ever so slightly.

Over time in an old New York Italianate, or an

Iowa farm home, the lite may be intact

Over 150 years

Yet not crisp

Like the autumn leaves that brush up against it.



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