by Raymond Carver
So early it's still almost dark out.
I'm near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren't saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other's arm.
It's early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn't enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.
The simplicity of this poem helped me understand what some people consider happiness. Although happiness is defined uniquely by each person, I believe it comes when you least expect it. At first, I wondered why two boys delivering newspapers in the early morning would be considered "happiness", but maybe it is through monotony that true happiness arrives. If a person goes throughout his day subconsciously getting from point A to point B, he will be unable to notice the small details that can provide him with happiness. However, if a person lives his life and is consciously aware of his surroundings, he will be able to accept and appreciate all the small things that can bring him real happiness.