Recently (that's always so vague), scratch that, four days ago, I bought a book of poetry.  Urged by a kindred spirit / guardian angel, I've begun reading a few poems each day, just to see how I like it and how I would react.  It's an experiment with words.  I've read fewer than 30 pages but already have several poems earmarked to share with you all.  I will try to share all the good ones with you, scattered here and there like rainbow marshmallows in an otherwise bland tasteless bowl of Lucky Charms.

This particular poem reminds me of our good friend Lauren at Still + Life.  If you've ever admired Lauren's photography, especially of the Elizabeth River at the end of Chesapeake Bay, you'll recognize why I thought of her immediately when I read this poem.

At Least by Raymond Carver

I want to get up early one more morning,
before sunrise. Before the birds, even.
I want to throw cold water on my face
and be at my work table
when the sky lightens and smoke
begins to rise from the chimneys
of the other houses.
I want to see the waves break
on this rocky beach, not just hear them
break as I did all night in my sleep.
I want to see again the ships
that pass through the Strait from every
seafaring country in the world—
old, dirty freighters just barely moving along,
and the swift new cargo vessels
painted every color under the sun
that cut the water as they pass.
I want to keep an eye out for them.
And for the little boat that plies
the water between the ships
and the pilot station near the lighthouse.
I want to see them take a man off the ship
and put another up on board.
I want to spend the day watching this happen
and reach my own conclusions.
I hate to seem greedy—I have so much
to be thankful for already.
But I want to get up early one more morning, at least.
And go to my place with some coffee and wait.
Just wait, to see what's going to happen.