Collins Makes Me Sigh

In my morning poetry reading, Billy Collins' "Ignorance" stopped me. Here's the first verse:

It's only a cold, cloud-hooded weekday
in the middle of winter,
but I am sitting up in my body
like a man riding an elephant
draped with a carpet of red and gold,
his turban askew,
singing a song about the return of the cranes.

Beautiful!