A great pal is visiting for a few days. A fellow writer, we’ve been reading and discussing bits of poetry as we discovered them.  Inspired by all these days of poetry I decided to start this day by selecting another poem at random from Billy Collins and his collection, Aimless Love.


The sky began to tilt,
a shift of light toward the higher clouds,
so I seized my brush
and dipped my little cup in the stream,

but once I streaked the paper gay
with a hint of green,
water began to slide down the page,
rivulets looking for a river.

And again, I was too late–
then the sky made another turn,
this time as if to face a mirror
held in the outstretched arm of a god.

As always, I’d love to hear what you think about this poem and/or Billy Collins.

aimlesslove copy