Happiness
by Raymond Carver
So early it's still almost dark out.
I'm near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren't saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other's arm.
It's early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn't enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
A Wish for 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I adore Carver, Cheryl. One of my favorites-- and something I may ask to be read at any future funeral I may have (not that I am planning on being there)-- is Carver's LATE FRAGMENT:
ReplyDeleteAnd did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.
This is my wish for 2008 and beyond.
To get what I want out of life and to be able to say "I did" when asked.
To be beloved
To feel beloved
and to love what I do and be proud of who I am.
Wishing you happiness,
Pamela
The peoms are really good..especially Late Fragment..he seems to have a knack for writing precisely but still saying whatever he wants to. I admire that.
ReplyDeleteHappy 2K8 Cheryl! Here's wishing you truckloads of happiness and tonnes of good times for this year and beyond :)
Great poem. Great link. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI read this poem, commented (as Nomadica, two years ago) and forgot all about it.
ReplyDeleteFive minutes ago -- and two years later -- I was flipping through Carver's All of Us: The Collected Poems and my eye fell upon this poem. I read it, remembered reading the exact words on this blog, came here, ran a search on Carver and found myself reading the poem, and my comment all over again in a completely new light.
I only just realized how much your writing has influenced my growing up years, Cheryl. Thank you.