My love, my saving grace,
your eyes are awfully blue.
I kiss your funny face,
your coffee-flavored mouth.
Last night I slept with you.
Today I love you so
how can I bear to go
(as soon I must, I know)
to bed with ugly death
in that cold, filthy place,
to sleep there without you,
without the easy breath
and nightlong, limblong warmth
I’ve grown accustomed to?
—Nobody wants to die;
tell me it is a lie!
But no, I know it’s true.
It’s just the common case;
there’s nothing one can do.
My love, my saving grace,
your eyes are awfully blue
early and instant blue.

“Breakfast Song” by Elizabeth Bishop, from Edgar Allan Poe & The Juke-Box: Uncollected Poems, Drafts, and Fragments. © Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Reader Recommended: My heartfelt thanks to reader Usha S. who offered Bishop’s poem as a personal favorite. Usha was grateful for the Good News poem by Thich Nhat Hanh “especially after the last few days/weeks of horror around the world and the feeding of fear.” Usha was referring to the Paris bombings, but sadly, could be referring to any day as of late.

Poetry offers us a slant of light in a dark world. To quote Bukowski, “it may not be much light but / it beats the darkness.” Keep shining, Christy