I sort of hate listening to The Diane Rehm Show but yesterday my favorite poet Billy Collins was being interviewed and I was so excited to listen. (I say "favorite poet" as if I have any other favorites? Living, at least? He's really the only one. As Robbie said, "Does anyone know any of the United States Poet Laureates other than Billy Collins?") Nothing quite like hearing old Billy read some of his poems himself, and he is pretty hilarious to boot. Also, he didn't get his first book published until he was well over forty years old and I'm always a little relieved to hear when successful people got a bit of a late start and still managed to do awesome things.
Here is one of his new poems that he read on the show (also the title of his new book) that I really loved and wanted to remember.
Aimless Love
This morning as I walked along the lakeshore,
I fell in love with a wren
and later in the day with a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.
In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailor’s window,
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.
This is the best kind of love, I thought,
without recompense, without gifts,
or unkind words, without suspicion,
or silence on the telephone.
The love of the chestnut,
the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.
No lust, no slam of the door –
the love of the miniature orange tree,
the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,
the highway that cuts across Florida.
No waiting, no huffiness, or rancor –
just a twinge every now and then
for the wren who had built her nest
on a low branch overhanging the water
and for the dead mouse,
still dressed in its light brown suit.
But my heart is always propped up
in a field on its tripod,
ready for the next arrow.
After I carried the mouse by the tail
to a pile of leaves in the woods,
I found myself standing at the bathroom sink
gazing down affectionately at the soap,
so patient and soluble,
so at home in its pale green soap dish.
I could feel myself falling again
as I felt its turning in my wet hands
and caught the scent of lavender and stone.
