Billy Collins

On Turning Ten by Billy Collins The whole idea of it makes me feel like I’m coming down with something, something worse than any stomach ache or the headaches I get from reading in bad light– a kind of measles of the spirit, a mumps of the psyche, a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul. You tell me it is too early to be looking back, but that is because you have forgotten the perfect simplicity of being one and the beautiful complexity introduced by two. But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit. At four I was an Arabian wizard. I could make myself invisible by drinking a glass of milk a certain way. At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince. But now I am mostly at the window watching the late afternoon light. Back then it never fell so solemnly against the side of my tree house, and my bicycle never leaned against the garage as it does today, all the dark blue speed drained out of it. This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself, as I walk through the universe in my sneakers. It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends, time to turn the first big number. It seems only yesterday I used to believe there was nothing under my skin but light. If you cut me I could shine. But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life, I skin my knees. I bleed.

Today started out with complete frustration (who says we can't talk about thorns... Calm til Christmas... it wasn't).  The first session was disastrous; all three I visited were full and/or closed.  I regrouped and sat outside the next one that I wanted to attend.  It was average.  All was not lost...

We paid sixty dollars to attend the middle school luncheon with Billy Collins.  It was phenomenal.  Billy Collins makes me laugh and cry and marvel.  Since today is my birthday, I appreciated his poem "On Turning 10".  One quote (although I could go on) from Mr. Collins talking about poetry, "Is there anything uplifting or intriguing, NO, content of literature is misery, the form is happiness. "