A day in June. Deer with a newborn fawn in the back field. The fawn couldn't have been more than a couple of days old. Peonies in the front yard.
Today
by Billy Collins
If ever there was a day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze
that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house
and unlatch the door to the canary's cage
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,
a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peonies
seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking
a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room table,
releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage
so they could walk out
holding hands and squinting
into this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.
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