Rain and Raymond Carver
It's time for bed, as the thoughts fill my head. It's raining and feels like it will be in the morning, but what do I know? If it is raining in the AM this would be an apropos poem. But not for me, I will have work - the big faculty Purim skit is tomorrow, plus classes as usual-ish.
Before Aaron Bulman died he found a Raymond Carver book in his apartment's basement and got very into it. One of the poems he liked and read aloud spoke about approaching death. After Aaron died I bought Carver's complete poetry book. People who think they're in the know praise his stories but dismiss his poems. Those really in the know, kow how good his poems are. I think this one's my favorite:
Rain
By Raymond Carver
Woke up this morning with
a terrific urge to lie in bed all day
and read. Fought against it for a minute.
Then looked out the window at the rain.
And gave over. Put myself entirely
in the keep of this rainy morning.
Would I live my life over again?
Make the same unforgivable mistakes?
Yes, given half a chance. Yes.
2 Comments:
I live in Eureka, where Ray used to live, in fact wrote much of his work, everytime it rains this poem comes to me.
Thanks - this comment and its timing are very meaningful to me.
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