I really loved wandering through the Eagle Saturday Market last week.
Now that I know which camera to use, I need to go back!
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.
Striking Through the Masks;
a literary memoir by Morton Marcus,
Capitola Books, 2008, page 284.
I have really been enjoying Morton Marcus's 2008 memoir of a life spent with poets and poetry. One of the neat things he does is to include a poem from many of the people he knew well, like this one by Raymond Carver, who is probably best known now for his short stories.