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Sundays are for Poetry

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Center
by Billy Collins

At the first chink of sunrise,
the windows on one side of the house
are frosted with stark orange light,

and in every pale blue window
on the other side
a full moon hangs, a round, white blaze.

I look out one side, then the other,
moving from room to room
as if between countries or parts of my life.

Then I stop and stand in the middle,
extend both arms
like Leonardo's man, naked in a perfect circle.

And when I begin to turn slowly
I can feel the whole house turning with me,
rotating free of the earth.

The sun and moon in all the windows
move, too, with the tips of my fingers,
the solar system turning by degrees

with me, morning's egomaniac,
turning on the hallway carpet in my slippers,
taking the cold orange, blue, and white

for a quiet, unhurried spin,
all wheel and compass, axis and reel,
as wide awake as I will ever be.

Comments

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Carole

Beautiful imagery in that poem. I always think I don't like poetry and then I read a poem on your blog and I think, wait. I would like poetry if Kym selected it all for me.

Mary

celebrating all us morning people, egomaniacs that we are :-) love the prisma effects that make the blue, orange and white of the first rays of sunshine really pop!. happy Sunday, my friend!

Bonny

I really like the opposites Collins expresses here, moving into balance in the middle. Thanks for sharing!

margene

I wish I lived in his house and could see both sun and moon at the same time from my windows-egomaniac that I am. Billy was on Prairie Home Companion last week. He was funny and wonderful.

AsKatKnits

Beautiful words and beautiful image! Thank you so much for sharing!

gale zucker (she shoots sheep shots)

Love Billy Collins. Thanks for posting this one , it is new to me, he always nails it. Morning egomaniac.

Patty

I think my comment is exactly as Carole said!

Vicki

I am thankful for you poetry lovers! I never choose it... but I usually love reading the pieces that you share!

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