Backyard (Monday Poem)

 by Mary Oliver

I had no time to haul out all

the dead stuff so it hung, limp

or dry, wherever the wind swung it

over or down or across. All summer

it stayed that way, untrimmed, and

thickened. The paths grew

damp and uncomfortable and mossy until

nobody could get through but a mouse or a 

shadow. Blackberries, ferns, leaves, litter

totally without direction management

supervision. The birds loved it.

from Devotions: the Selected Poems of Mary Oliver

Penguin, 2017

Fireflies (Monday Poem)

by Mary Oliver

 

 

At Blackwater

fireflies

are not even a dime a dozen--

they are free,

 

and each floats and turns

among the branches of the oaks

and the swamp azaleas

looking for another

 

as, who doesn't?

Oh, blessings

on the intimacy

inside fruition,

 

be it foxes

or the fireflies

or the dampness inside the petals

of a thousand flowers.

 

Though Eden is lost

its loveliness

remains in the heart

and the imagination;

 

he would take her

in a boat

over the dark water;

she would take him

 

to an island she knows

where the blue flag grows wild

and the grass is deep,

where the birds

 

perch together,

feather to feather,

on the bough.

And the fireflies,

 

blinking their little lights,

hurry toward one another.

And the world continues,

God willing.

 

from Devotions: the Selected Poems of Mary Oliver

Penguin, 2017

 

Passing the Unworked Field (Monday Poem)

 by Mary Oliver

Queen Anne's lace

    is hardly 

        prized but

all the same it isn't

    idle look

                how it

    stands straight on it

thin stems how it

    scrubs its white faces

        with the

rags of the sun how it

            makes all the 

                loveliness

                    it can.

from Devotions: the Selected Poems of Mary Oliver

Penguin, 2017

Three Things to Remember (Monday Poem)

by Mary Oliver

 

 

As long as you're dancing, you can

    break the rules.

Sometimes breaking the rules is just

    extending the rules.

 

Sometimes there are no rules.

 

 

from Devotions: the Selected Poems of Mary Oliver

Penguin, 2017 

I Go Down to the Shore (Monday Poem)

by Mary Oliver

 

 

I go down to the shore in the morning

and depending on the hour the waves

are rolling in or moving out,

and I say, oh, I am miserable,

what shall---

what should I do? And the sea says

in its lovely voice:

Excuse me, I have work to do.

 

 

 

from Devotions: the Selected Poems of Mary Oliver

Penguin, 2017 

Loneliness (Monday Poem)

by Mary Oliver

I too have known loneliness.

I too have known what it is to feel

    misunderstood,

    rejected, and suddenly

not at all beautiful.

Oh, mother earth,

    your comfort is great, your arms never withhold.

It has saved my life to know this.

Your rivers flowing, your roses opening in the morning.

Oh, motions of tenderness!

from Devotions: the Selected Poems of Mary Oliver

Penguin, 2017

August Heat (Monday Poem)

 Anonymous

 

 

In August, when the days are hot,

I like to find a shady spot,

And hardly move a single bit --

And sit --

and sit --

and sit --

and sit!

 

 

 

from Sing a Song of Seasons: 

A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year

Selected by Fiona Waters

illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon

Candlewick Press, 2018