Norman MacCaig’s poetry is full of wonders. This wonderful poem seems to have been written for me.
I don’t learn much, I’m a man
of no improvements. My nose still snuffs the air
in an amateurish way.
I went to college, not really looking for credentials, but hoping to find an improved me. I can go on at length about my love of learning, but when it comes to pointing out all the improvements that have piled up as a result, I have to admit the pile is modest.
On the other hand, not improving much has its consolations. I haven’t outgrown early interests and passions.
When I love
a person, a place, an object, I don’t see
what there is to argue about.
It must be a law of nature: Every family of teachers must have one of my kind.
• Source: Norman MacCaig, The Poems of Norman MacCaig; Edinburgh: Polygon, 2005, p. 355.
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