October 21, 2008

My Number, by Billy Collins

Is Death miles away from this house,
reaching for a window in Cinncinati
or breathing down the neck of a lost hiker
in British Columbia?

Is he too busy making arrangements,
tampering with air brakes,
scattering cancer cells like seeds,
loosening the wooden beams of roller coasters

to bother with my hidden cottage
that visitors find so hard to find?

Or is he stepping from a black car
parked at the dark end of the lane,
shaking open the familiar cloak,
its hood raised like the head of a crow,
and removing the scythe from the trunk?

Did you have any trouble with the directions?
I will ask, as I start talking my way out of this.

Just wanted to pay tribute to an American treasure, Billy Collins

October 20, 2008

A Glimmer of Hope...

Resolved to Keep on Marketing - Even in Tight-Fisted Times

October 2008

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