Picking Blueberries (Monday Poem)

 by Mary Oliver

Once, in summer,

in the blueberries,

I fell asleep, and woke

when a deer stumbled against me.

I guess

she was so busy with her own happiness

she had grown careless

and was just wandering along

listening

to the wind as she leaned down

to lip up the sweetness.

So, there we were

with nothing between us

but a few leaves, and the wind's

glossy voice

shouting instructions.

The deer

backed away finally

and flung up her white tail

and went floating off toward the trees--

but the moment before she did that

was so wide and deep

it has lasted to this day;

I have only to think of her--

the flower of her amazement

and the stalled breath of her curiosity,

and even the damp touch of her solicitude

before she took flight--

to be absent again from this world

and alive, again, in another,

for thirty years

sleepy and amazed,

rising out of the rough weeds,

listening and looking,.

Beautiful girl,

where are you?

from Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver, by Mary Oliver

Penguin Random House, 2017