Random Acts of Poetry

The first Wednesday in October is Random Acts of Poetry Day, a day to share poetry in public. I wrote a bit about it last year. My plan today is to post the poem below somewhere in the hospital I am currently visiting. All is well, but I am with a family member who took a fall and is (thankfully) getting better. As I’m sitting by their bed trying to type quietly, I will make this brief.

a writing prompt

Find (or write!) a poem today, and share it with someone else. Post it in public, or send it to a friend. Or just put it up on your mirror or window and enjoy it yourself.

Post it in the comments here, if you like, so we can all enjoy it.

Here’s mine, from Billy Collins.

Aimless Love

This morning as I walked along the lake shore,
I fell in love with a wren
and later in the day with a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.

In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailor’s window,
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.

This is the best kind of love, I thought,
without recompense, without gifts,
or unkind words, without suspicion,
or silence on the telephone.

The love of the chestnut,
the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.

No lust, no slam of the door—
the love of the miniature orange tree,
the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,
the highway that cuts across Florida.

No waiting, no huffiness, or rancor—
just a twinge every now and then

for the wren who had built her nest
on a low branch overhanging the water
and for the dead mouse,
still dressed in its light brown suit.

But my heart is always propped up
in a field on its tripod,
ready for the next arrow.

After I carried the mouse by the tail
to a pile of leaves in the woods,
I found myself standing at the bathroom sink
gazing down affectionately at the soap,

so patient and soluble,
so at home in its pale green soap dish.
I could feel myself falling again
as I felt its turning in my wet hands
and caught the scent of lavender and stone.

—by Billy Collins, Nine Horses

Wherever you are today, poetry will make it better.

What poem will you share?

Photo by Trust "Tru" Katsande on Unsplash