The first Thursday short poem of 2006 comes from R.S. Gwynn, a professor of English at Lamar University in Texas. It may be officially "untitled" but it's a nice summary of the sort of New Year's reveries I have, filled with hope, optimism, and more than a little self-regard. It's quite fine.
Untitled
"In the morning light a line
Stretches forever. There my unlived life
Rises and I resist . . . "
--Louis Simpson
In which I rise untroubled by my dreams.
In which my unsung theories are upheld
By massive votes. In which my students' themes
Move me. In which my name is not misspelled.
In which I enter strangers' rooms to find,
Matched in unbroken sets, immaculate,
My great unwritten books. In which I sign
My name for girls outside a convent gate.
In which I run for daylight and my knee
Does not fold up. In which the home teams win.
In which my unwed wife steeps fragrant tea
In clean white cups. In which my days begin
With scenes in which, across unblemished sands,
Unborn, my children come to touch my hands.
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