Monday, March 10, 2008

Poem for Today

"The Hunt"

by Billy Collins, Questions About Angels

Somewhere in the rolling hills and farm country
that lie beyond speech
Noah Webster and his assistants are moving
across the landscape tracking down a new word.

It is a small noun about the size of a mouse,
one that will be seldom used by anyone,
like a synonym for isthmus,
but they are pursuing the creature zealously

as if it were the verb to be,
swinging their sticks and calling out to one another
as they wade through a field of waist-high barley.


  1. Ah!
    Another Billy Collins fan.
    Merisi, of Merisi's Vienna, is another blogger who enjoys him.
    I have just discovered your blog and am enjoying it so much.
    Glad you came across my NY blog.
    It's really just for fun.
    I feel like a tourist in Manhattan now since we're mostly in Morocco.
    I'll visit again.

  2. Hello!

    Thanks for stopping by my blog and for your nice comments.

    I will definitely have to pay a visit to Merisi if she is a fellow Collins fan.

    I'll be back to your fun blog, too.


Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)