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Raymond Carver - This Morning

This morning was something. A little snow
lay on the ground. The sun floated in a clear
blue sky. The sea was blue, and blue-green,
as far as the eye could see.
Scarcely a ripple. Calm. I dressed and went
for a walk -- determined not to return
until I took in what Nature had to offer.
I passed close to some old, bent-over trees.
Crossed a field strewn with rocks
where snow had drifted. Kept going
until I reached the bluff.
Where I gazed at the sea, and the sky, and
the gulls wheeling over the white beach
far below. All lovely. All bathed in a pure
cold light. But, as usual, my thoughts
began to wander. I had to will
myself to see what I was seeing
and nothing else. I had to tell myself this is what
mattered, not the other. (And I did see it,
for a minute or two!) For a minute or two
it crowded out the usual musings on
what was right, and what was wrong -- duty,
tender memories, thoughts of death, how I should treat
with my former wife. All the things
I hoped would go away this morning.
The stuff I live with every day. What
I've trampled on in order to stay alive.
But for a minute or two I did forget
myself and everything else. I know I did.
For when I turned back i didn't know
where I was. Until some birds rose up
from the gnarled trees. And flew
in the direction I needed to be going.

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Added: Feb 21 2003 | Viewed: 28677 times | Comments and analysis of This Morning by Raymond Carver Comments (93)

This Morning - Comments and Information

Poet: Raymond Carver
Poem: This Morning
Volume: Ultramarine
Year: Published/Written in 1986
Poem of the Day: Jan 20 2010

Comment 93 of 93, added on October 10th, 2016 at 4:40 PM.

ba8ZVx Is anything better then WordPress for building a web presence for a small Business?

huba buba from Brazil
Comment 92 of 93, added on August 3rd, 2016 at 11:24 AM.

COaJbz there, it was a important place in the court.

lananal from Nigeria
Comment 91 of 93, added on July 5th, 2016 at 9:22 AM.

3LkRLg You have mentioned very interesting details ! ps nice website . To grow mature is to separate more distinctly, to connect more closely. by Hugo Von Hofmannsthal.

cuck your mom from Fiji

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