Mary Oliver: Red Bird

Mary Oliver is 70 years old – one of my favorite poets she has offered up another book “Red Bird”. I just picked it up yesterday and have started to read it this morning. Every poem a new one…what will I do with myself?

Luke, by Mary Oliver from “Red Birds”

I had a dog
who loved flowers
Briskly she went
through the fields.

yet paused
for the honeysuckle
or the rose,
her dark head

and her wet nose
touching
the face
of every one

with its petals
of silk
with its fragrance
rising

into the air
where the bees,
their bodies,
heavy with pollen,

hovered-
and easily
she adored
every blossom,

not in the serious,
careful way
that we choose
this blossom or that blossom –

the way we praise or don’t praise –
the way we love
or don’t love-
but the way

we long to be –
that happy
in the heaven of earth –
that wild, that loving.

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2 Responses to “Mary Oliver: Red Bird”

  1. Wow…very nice.

  2. Dogs do that every time.

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