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 unforgiveable mistakes?
Yes, given half a chance. Yes.
The year is ending. Some things are destroyed: a city, plans, relationships. Yet some things are also being rebuilt: this house. My life.
This poem appeared in All of Us: The Collected Poems by Raymond Carver, published by Vintage Books, 1996. Shared here with profound gratitude.
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