It’s spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you’ve got it, you want — oh, you don’t quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so! ~Mark Twain

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Why I love this poet.

Black Swallowtail

The caterpillar,
interesting but now exactly lovely,
humped along among the parsley leaves
eating, always eating. Then
one night it was gone and in its place
a small green confinement hung by two silk threads
on a parsley stem. I think it took nothing with it
except faith, and patience. And then one morning

it expressed itself into the most beautiful being.

( for Nina )

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  1. Oh I love that book! Ha I saw the title and will not tell you my first thought, LOL...I need to get over myself :)

  2. Connie, for the reason that this is a poem about an insect, I thought it was going to be about John Clare. Have you read him?
    I think its time I ordered a book of Poems by Mary Oliver.


  3. it's a little early in the morning to have eyes filled with tears - but i'll take that, anyway, the tears - thank you sweet friend! xxx


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