Number three in my slow but ongoing quest to commit poetry to memory. This one is from Mary Oliver, which is little surprise, but it’s not a poem that I was familiar with. I was flipping through a couple books, looking for something to jump out, and those final lines caught me. I’m still really enjoying the process, and have found myself reciting poetry aloud when I’m alone in the car or going over lines in my head while running. I love how accessible it can be.
If you’re a Mary Oliver fan, her recent interview here was a great listen.