Morning Open Thread is a daily, copyrighted post from a host of editors and guest writers. We support our community, invite and share ideas, and encourage thoughtful, respectful dialogue in an open forum.
I’ve come to think of this post as one where you come for the music and stay for the conversation—so feel free to drop a note. The diarist gets to sleep in if she so desires and can show up long after the post is published. So you know, it's a feature, not a bug.
Join us, please.
Joy of Fishes is on the road so you get another fill-in post; we were hoping to have LP Sound Off guest host again this week, but that didn’t work out. So I decided to dig up some busking videos because Sunday’s sometime remind me of walking in the French Quarter and listening to street musicians mixing with sounds of the city.
Here’s a poem by Billy Collins entitled “Morning,” which expresses my feelings about mornings better than I could.
Morning
Why do we bother with the rest of the day,
the swale of the afternoon,
the sudden dip into evening,
then night with his notorious perfumes,
his many-pointed stars?
This is the best—
throwing off the light covers,
feet on the cold floor,
and buzzing around the house on espresso—
maybe a splash of water on the face,
a palmful of vitamins—
but mostly buzzing around the house on espresso,
dictionary and atlas open on the rug,
the typewriter waiting for the key of the head,
a cello on the radio,
and, if necessary, the windows—
trees fifty, a hundred years old
out there,
heavy clouds on the way
and the lawn steaming like a horse
in the early morning.
Please feel free to post any music, other news, or even a poem you might have. And I do hope you enjoy the company.
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Grab your coffee or tea and join us, please.
What's on your mind this morning?