This month’s theme: “Where I Am: Poems of Place”
11/26 • Mythology
—After Mary Oliver—
In the dark
eyes closed
I listened to
the maple
letting down
her hair
shaking, rustling
flailing, falling
resting
like the golden
footprints of a duck
across grass
frosted
by the breath of a god.
Passing by
in the night
in his haste
out of breath
he had stooped
hands on knees
exhaling
crystal vapor
in this spot.
The sound
of his lover’s offering
devoted to grace
god-breathed starlight
held me.
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Does Mary Oliver have a poem of similar name or theme?