'Mary Oliver' Tagged Posts
The Summer Day by Mary Oliver
The Summer Day Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear? Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean- the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down- who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes. Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face. Now she snaps…
The Swimmer
by Mary Oliver All winter the water has crashed over the cold the cold sand. Now it breaks over the thin branch of your body. You plunge down, you swim two or three strokes, you dream of lingering in the luminous undertow but can’t; you splash through the bursting white blossoms, the silk sheets — gasping, you rise and struggle lightward, finding your way through the blue ribs back to the sun, and emerge as though for the first time…