The poet Mary Oliver, famous for her poems about nature, died this week. Combined with that I am spending the weekend in the Poconos during a snow storm. It seemed only fitting to spend the morning looking at the newly fallen snow ("Or the snow, for which the peoples of the north have dozens of words to describe its different arrivals") with a cup of tea and reading poetry.
My favorites: A Meeting, I Ask Percy How I Should Live My Life (Percy number 10) ("Love, love, love, says Percy. ⦠Then, trust") and, of course, The Summer Day ("Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?")
My favorites: A Meeting, I Ask Percy How I Should Live My Life (Percy number 10) ("Love, love, love, says Percy. ⦠Then, trust") and, of course, The Summer Day ("Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?")
