Today

by Billy Collins

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,

so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw

open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary's cage,

indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths

and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight

that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight

on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants

from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,

holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,

well, today is just that kind of day.


Comment: Happy birthday to my dear friend, Eugenia. I have no idea what the weather is going to be like in San Francisco tomorrow but I hope it is like the spring day Collins has described. Or at least I hope your mood is like that spring day. I am ultra-bummed because in finding and reading this poem I realized that Billy Collins had given a reading in Dallas. In fact, at a venue not three minutes from my front door and I completely forgot. FORGOT, folks. That is the state of my brain. Oh, well. I'm always slightly disappointed at readings. They're very rarely what you think.

Wishing you sunshine, warm breezes and gardens bursting with peonies!