A Million Empty Branches

From Billy Collins' new collection, The Trouble with Poetry & Other Poems. Read these lines outside in the cold last night. Those lines you read and memorize immediately, imprinting them on your heart. Symphonies built on carefully choreographed, carefully chosen words. Austerity is the heart of poetry. The last stanza from the poem "I Ask You," a perfect winter poem, hit me right in that place of the heart you reserve solely for God:

So forgive me
if I lower my head and listen
to the short bass candle as he takes a solo
while my heart
thrums under my shirt--
frog at the edge of a pond--
and my thoughts fly off to a province
composed of one enormous sky
and about a million empty branches.


Debbie said…
great poem and i love the picture!
ryan said…
Hey Ama! It was nice to see your comment on my bloggy yesterday. I love all the pictures you have over here, and I checked out We Heart It, and I heart it! Keep up the nice work. I'll be checking back in.

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