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?
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.