Almost a
Conversation
I have not really, not yet,
talked with otter
about his life.
about his life.
He has so many teeth, he has
trouble
with vowels.
with vowels.
Wherefore our
understanding
is all body expression—
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.
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.
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.
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.
~ Mary Oliver ~
(Evidence)
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