I’m fresh out of anything to say, because after all, it’s almost Christmas vacation.
You know how the last days of school go. The children carelessly scribble their final assignments, eyes on the door, ready to pile from the room, go sledding, drink hot chocolate.
Me? I’ll be hanging tinsel on parts of life that could use a touch of silver.
But today, I’m doing the only thing a westward-ho writer could possibly do.
I’m sending you a poem –written by someone else — because as I said, my brain is busy thinking about what to put in my very small suitcase, wondering what to give my daughter for Christmas, and writing a set of instructions for the (new) pet sitter.
I hope you enjoy this poem by Billy Collins from his collection “Sailing Alone Around the Room.”
What Billy writes makes perfect sense to me, first that he would be contemplating all manner of things such as questions about angels, but also that he would go to the trouble of inviting the rest of us to join him. His poems are wonderfully varied, usually light hearted, sometimes comical. I adore his unexpected left turns.