Mary Oliver


Comments about Mary Oliver

  • Audy Meadow Thistle (8/2/2019 12:27:00 AM)

    Mary Oliver has a way of shaking us out of our cultural blindness to the natural world around us and startling us into seeing what has always been there but ignored. Her poems at best are powerful in that they include, not just a platitude of nature, but teeth and claws, the hunger, death and aliveness. Asking, how does this apply to your life?

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  • oiuyt (5/16/2019 10:10:00 AM)

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  • Steve Kerns (4/25/2019 2:57:00 PM)

    RIP. She certainly is one of the most important English language poets of the late 20th, early 21st century.

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  • Bill Grace (2/10/2019 7:16:00 PM)

    ... ... ...
    but once,
    years ago,
    in some kind of rapturous mistake,
    the deer did not run away

    but walked toward me
    and touched my hands-
    and I have been, ever since,
    separated from my old, comfortable life

    .... .... ....

    7 person liked.
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  • Bill Grace (2/8/2019 10:02:00 PM)

    Her poem The Pinewoods could well be her communication to us from the other side.

    4 person liked.
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  • Deborah Kauffman Miller (2/2/2019 12:48:00 PM)

    Looking for a Mary Oliver poem about rainwater seeping into the earth and a stone feeling itself being touched

    3 person liked.
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  • Anne Hoiberg (1/26/2019 8:10:00 PM)

    Looking for the poem in which the ocean states that it has work to do.

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  • Shirley (1/23/2019 12:54:00 PM)

    Looking for a poem that begins 'When death carts me off to the bottomlands'...Shirley

    5 person liked.
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  • Sharon (1/21/2019 2:51:00 PM)

    Looking for the poem that includes a fox curled up in a wheel bed, dead, when she finds it and she wonders what it saw/thought as it looked out after it had curled up and before it died. So poignant

    2 person liked.
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  • Sandra (1/20/2019 3:08:00 AM)

    Her life lives on in her poetry

    6 person liked.
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Best Poem of Mary Oliver

A Dream Of Trees

There is a thing in me that dreamed of trees,
A quiet house, some green and modest acres
A little way from every troubling town,
A little way from factories, schools, laments.
I would have time, I thought, and time to spare,
With only streams and birds for company.
To build out of my life a few wild stanzas.
And then it came to me, that so was death,
A little way away from everywhere.

There is a thing in me still dreams of trees,
But let it go. Homesick for moderation,
Half the world’s artists shrink or fall away.
If any find solution, let him ...

Read the full of A Dream Of Trees

Mindful

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack

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