After a bit of sad news, it is time for a little cheer. I've decided to share this seasonal and joyous poem by Mary Oliver, taken from Winter Hours: Prose, Prose Poems and Poems [811 OLI]
The Storm
Now through the white orchard my little dog
romps, breaking the new snow
with wild feet.
Running here running there, excited,
hardly able to stop, he leaps, he spins
until the white snow is written upon
in large, exuberant letters,
A long sentence, expressing
the pleasures of the body in the world.
Oh, I could not have said it better
myself.
Join Myra at Gathering Books for this week's Poetry Friday Round-Up!
Photo by Bill Hails.
3 comments:
Great poem! Thank you for honoring us with a bit of Mary Oliver today.
Love that writing with exuberant letters-just as it is in the snow & with little dogs. I am sorry to hear about the illness.
My favorite line is the last one:
Oh, I could not have said it better
myself.
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