Billy Collins is that rarest of phenomena—a best-selling poet. Cherished for his wry humor, ingenious metaphors and uncanny ability to turn the most humdrum of domestic situations into occasions for memorable poetry, he came to prominence in 1998 with his volume Picnic, Lightning. Born in New York City, and a professor at Lehman College there, he served from 2001 to 2003 as the United States’ poet laureate.
By Billy Collins
Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,
its white flag waving over everything,
the landscape vanished,
not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness,
and beyond these windows
the government buildings smothered,
schools and libraries buried, the post office lost
under the noiseless drift,
the paths...
By Billy Collins
If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze
that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house
and unlatch the door to the canary's cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its...
