Saturday, July 9, 2011

at blackwater pond

At Blackwater Pond

At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled
after a night of rain.
I dip my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold
into my body, waking the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is the beautiful thing that just happened?

--Mary Oliver

photo by the ever-lovely marta: "
Because there's always a moment of a Mary Oliver poem out there." love and miss you too much.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

walking across the atlantic

Walking Across the Atlantic

I wait for the holiday crowd to clear the beach
before stepping onto the first wave.

Soon I am walking across the Atlantic
thinking about Spain,
checking for whales, waterspouts.
I feel the water holding up my shifting weight.
Tonight I will sleep on its rocking surface.

But for now I try to imagine what
this must look like to the fish below,
the bottoms of my feet appearing, disappearing.

--Billy Collins

No, I'm not in Spain. I've been in Argentina since the end of January. Today I,
la mochilera, will be finally heading home. I booked a flight for 11:11 (in all seriousness.) Besos!