Morning

I shared Billy Collins' Morning with my students today. "Why do we bother with the rest of the day[...]?" the poem asks. Some of my favorite poems by Collins capture the home, the day, the ephemera of the narrator: the barking dog next door, cello recordings, student papers. "Morning" is no exception, as we encounter the vitamins, espresso, and arcane machinery of literacy that define an idiosyncratic a.m.

This morning, before I shared "Morning," I realized I never loved the Southfield Hwy. until the Southfield Hwy closed for several months, humanizing my Berkley to Dearborn commute each morning. My own morning is sometimes bad radio and good cereal. The latter has whole grains, the former is bleached bland carbs. I should listen to NPR each morning, and not just during Bad Radio's commercials. Sometimes I walk the dog around the block, other days are lazy and she settles for the backyard. We should circle the block each morning. With thanks to Billy Collins, two morning resolutions.