This morning I opened my email to find an entry on the beautiful blog of author Patti Digh - in which she receives a personal note from Billy Collins - the poet I most admire. My heart stopped. I read it again slowly - the words from Billy - the magical, lyrical sounds of love and lilacs, the deep admiration from one poet to another. I went rushing through the house to breathlessly announce to my husband my outrageous jealousy, my petty smallness at wanting to snatch the letter from her hand and make it be to me. He was putting his boots on for a day out working in the cold, and try as he might, could not grasp the depth of my hysteria. Just last night I was compiling my submission to a poetry contest that Billy Collins is judging.




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