Concerning Sunday Morning--

Like all of Stevens' poetry, I find this one easier to understand in a sort of emotional fugue state than in analytical concentration. It's one of my favorites, in any case.

What a Sunday morning is varies from person to person, but I think I share enough of Stevens' contexts to *imagine* a Sunday morning dedicated to devotions of a wholly other sort.

"Complacencies of the peignoir" indeed!

V