Almost a Conversation
about his life.
He has so many teeth, he has trouble
with vowels.
Wherefore our understanding
is all body expression--
he swims like the sleekest fish,
he dives and exhales and lifts a trail of bubbles.
Little by little he trusts my eyes
and my curious body sitting on the shore.
Sometimes he comes close.
I admire his whiskers
and his dark fur which I would rather die than wear.
He has no words, still what he tells about his life
is clear.
He does not own a computer.
He imagines the river will last forever.
He does not envy the dry house I live in.
He does not wonder who or what it is that I worship.
He wonders, morning after morning, that the river
is so cold and fresh and alive, and still
I don't jump in.
Y
8 comments:
Lovely words and photo .. I may need to read more of her ..
Wonderful poem, indeed. Your photo is also great; it made me smile.
Makes my heart sing too :^)
Thank you for sharing that delightful poem - and for the rippling picture that goes with it.
Poet otter jump in some morning!
aloha
Comfort Spiral
Love the poem! AND that water shot!hughugs
That book is yet another masterpiece by Mary Oliver. I liked the otter poem, too. And the one about trees being something other than decorations. She is a master. Beautiful post.
Wonderful words and photo. I love river otters. ;-)
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