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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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,
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.
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.
~ Billy Collins
~
(Nine Horses)
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