The Place I Want to Get Back
To
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 come
on their
slender legs
and gazed upon me
not unlike the way
I go out to the dunes and
look
and look and look
into the faces of the flowers;
and then one of
them leaned forward
and nuzzled my hand, and
what can my life
bring 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.
~ Mary Oliver ~
(Thirst)
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