Have yourself a merry little Christmas, make the Yuletide gay.
~Ralph Blane~

Monday, August 17, 2009

Wishing on a Poem

This Morning I Watched the Deer

This morning I watched the deer
with beautiful lips touching the tips
of the cranberries, setting their hooves down
in the dampness carelessly, isn't it after all
the carpet of their house, their home, whose roof
is the sky?

Why, then, was I suddenly miserable?


Well, this is nothing much.
This is the heaviness of the body watching the swallows
gliding just under that roof.


This is the wish that the deer would not lift their heads
and leap away, leaving me there alone.
This is the wish to touch their faces, their brown wrists---
to sing some sparkling poem into
the folds of their ears,


then walk with them,
over the hills
and over the hills

and into the impossible trees.

~Mary Oliver~

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5 comments:

  1. Very nice verse and picture. It would be great to see real deer like this. Very nicely done post. I am glad you left me a comment. I enjoy comments as much as the other post.

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  2. yes, Mary Oliver has it
    nice picture too (as usual)

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  3. Very nice pic and poem. ***sigh***

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  4. What a great picture and poem. Have a great day.

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  5. We have lots of Mule deer here in CO. I saw 2 beautiful bucks yesterday while walking Button we have elk too more stately the deer are so graceful & those narrow fragile looking legs are so powerful they bounce & leap so gracefully . Sometimes I wish I could do that, how would it feel?

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