14 November 2010

A Poem for the Day

It’s Sunday Morning in Early November
by Philip Schultz

and there are a lot of leaves already.

I could rake and get a head start.

The boy's summer toys need to be put

in the basement. I could clean it out

or fix the broken storm window.

When Eli gets home from Sunday school,

I could take him fishing. I don't fish

but I could learn to. I could show him

how much fun it is. We don't do as much

as we used to do. And my wife, there's

so much I haven't told her lately,

about how quickly my soul is aging,

how it feels like a basement I keep filling

with everything I'm tired of surviving.

I could take a walk with my wife and try

to explain the ghosts I can't stop speaking to.

Or I could read all those books piling up

about the beginning of the end of understanding...

Meanwhile, it's such a beautiful morning,

the changing colors, the hypnotic light.

I could sit by the window watching the leaves,

which seem to know exactly how to fall

from one moment to the next. Or I could lose

everything and have to begin over again.

"It's Sunday Morning in Early November" by Philip Schultz, from The God of Loneliness: Selected and New Poems. © Houghton Mifflin, 2010.

Hat tip to my brother, Regis.

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