Walk the rails under a high blue sky. Find the sag in the leaning fence, and step--carefully--over rusted wire. Follow a peninsula of blond grasses through a lake of loam, and come, at last, to the timber's edge where gray branches trace the sky and rose hips curl near purple canes.
Monday, April 28, 2014
Mary Oliver's "Morning Poem"
I'm posting this lovely poem by Mary Oliver because I needed to recall a
little beauty tonight . . . perhaps it may cheer you, too.
I'm so glad you know this poem, and shared it. May the beast within you shout this poem to you every hour, mornign or night - whenever you need it. I need it now. Thanks
I'm so glad you know this poem, and shared it. May the beast within you shout this poem to you every hour, mornign or night - whenever you need it. I need it now. Thanks
ReplyDeleteThanks, Newell! It's such a good poem, isn't it?
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