"Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone ..." William Wordsworth

21 July 2021



The crows see me.  
They stretch their glossy necks    
In the tallest branches    
Of green trees. I am    
Possibly dangerous, I am    
Entering the kingdom.

The dream of my life  
Is to lie down by a slow river    
And stare at the light in the trees–   
To learn something by being nothing    
A little while but the rich    
Lens of attention.

But the crows puff their feathers and cry  
Between me and the sun,    
And I should go now.    
They know me for what I am.    
No dreamer,    
No eater of leaves.

Mary Oliver

No comments: