The early sun is so pale and shadowy, br br I could be looking up at a ghost br br in the shape of a window, br br a tall, rectangular spirit br br looking down at me in bed, br br about to demand that I avenge br br the murder of my father. br br But the morning light is only the first line br br in the play of this day- br br the only day in existence- br br the opening chord of its long song, br br or think of what is permeating br br the thin bedroom curtains br br br br as the beginning of a lecture br br I will listen to until it is dark, br br a curious student in a V-neck sweater, br br angled into the wooden chair of his life, br br ready with notebook and a chewed-up pencil, br br quiet as a goldfish in winter, br br serious as a compass at sea, br br eager to absorb whatever lesson br br this damp, overcast Tuesday br br has to teach me, br br here in the spacious classroom of the world br br with its long walls of glass, br br its heavy, low-hung ceiling.