Time With an Old Friend
- At February 03, 2021
- By drynick
- In Reflections
0
Having run out of options,
I give myself permission
to be tired and unuseful.
I surrender to the brown
couch and repeatedly read
the many versions of Mary Oliver’s
one poem of appreciation.
I dreamily wonder if life
could possibly be
made as she claims—
for such easy delight.
If so, what about
the fierce intention that
brought these lovely
poems into the world?
Smiling at my
relentless complaint,
I dog-ear the best
for future remembering.
Follow David!