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last gasps of summer…

September 10, 2014


“Who made the day?

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 her wings open, and floats away.

_DSC9679 I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it your plan to do

with your one wild and precious life?”

Mary Oliver


2 Comments leave one →
  1. Eric Weiner permalink
    September 10, 2014 5:36 pm

    What a lovely poem. And I loved the poetry in the shot of Ariel’s crossed legs on the porch with just a hint of a dissapearing tail. E

    Eric Weiner A Museum Of My Own

  2. September 12, 2014 2:52 pm

    Beautiful photos and poetry. Thank you.

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