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88 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2003
Listen, everyone has a chance.
Is it spring, is it morning? Are there trees near you,
and does your own soul need comforting?
Quick, then—open the door and fly on your heavy feet; the song
may already be drifting away.
from ‘Such Singing in the Wild Branches’
Mary Oliver / Owls and Other Fantasies
Meanwhile the birds bathe and splash and have a good time. Then they fly off, their dark wings opening from their bright, yellow bodies; their tiny feet, all washed, clasping the air.
‘Goldfinches’
Mary Oliver / Owls and Other Fantasies
Find a poem by a poet you love, read it every morning for a month.
– Mary Oliver / 2012 Interview with Amy Sutherland for the Boston Globe
And I walk on, over the shoulder of summer and down across the red-dappled fall; and, when it’s late winter again, out through the far woodlands of the Provincelands, maybe another few hundred miles, looking for the owl’s nest, yes, of course, and looking at everything else along the way.
‘Owls’
Mary Oliver / Owls and Other Fantasies