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	<title>My Sweet Nothing &#187; Billy Collins</title>
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	<link>http://www.mysweetnothing.com</link>
	<description>an open (note)book about art and language</description>
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		<title>Days by Billy Collins</title>
		<link>http://www.mysweetnothing.com/2008/12/days/</link>
		<comments>http://www.mysweetnothing.com/2008/12/days/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 28 Dec 2008 07:39:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Lisa</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[regular]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Billy Collins]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Each one is a gift, no doubt, mysteriously placed in your waking hand or set upon your forehead moments before you open your eyes. Today begins cold and bright, the ground heavy with snow and the thick masonry of ice, the sun glinting off the turrets of clouds. Through the calm eye of the window [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Each one is a gift, no doubt,<br />
mysteriously placed in your waking hand<br />
or set upon your forehead<br />
moments before you open your eyes.<br />
Today begins cold and bright,<br />
the ground heavy with snow<br />
and the thick masonry of ice,<br />
the sun glinting off the turrets of clouds.<br />
Through the calm eye of the window<br />
everything is in its place<br />
but so precariously<br />
this day might be resting somehow<br />
on the one before it,<br />
all the days of the past stacked high<br />
like the impossible tower of dishes<br />
entertainers used to build on stage.<br />
No wonder you find yourself<br />
perched on the top of a tall ladder<br />
hoping to add one more.<br />
Just another Wednesday<br />
you whisper,<br />
then holding your breath,<br />
place this cup on yesterday’s saucer<br />
without the slightest clink.<br />
<em>- Billy Collins</em></p>
<p>courtesy <a href="http://whiskeyriver.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">whiskey river</a></p>
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