The place I want to get back to
(by Mary Oliver in Thirst, 2006)
is where
in the pinewoods
in the moments between the darkness
and first light
two deer
came walking
down the hill
and when they saw me
they said to each other, okay,
this one is okay
let's see who she is
and why she is sitting
on the ground, like that,
so quiet, as if
asleep, or in a dream,
but anyway, harmless;
and so they came
on their slender legs
and gazed upon me
not unlike the way
I got out to the dunes and look
and look and look
into the faces of the flowers;
and then one of them leaned forward
and muzzled my hand and what can my life
bring to me that could exceed
that brief moment?
For twenty years
I have gone every day to the same woods.
not waiting, exactly, just lingering.
Such gifts, bestowed, can't be repeated
If you want to talk about this
come to visit. I live in the house
near the corner, which I have named
Gratitude.
