Or is it tender and breakable, like
the wings of a mouth in the beak of the owl?
Who has it, and who doesn't?
I keep looking around me.
The face of the moose is as sad
as the face of Jesus.
The swan opens her white wings slowly.
In the fall, the black bear carries leaves into the darkness.
One question leads to another.
Does it have a shape? Like an iceberg?
Like the eye of a hummingbird?
Does ir have one lung, like the snake and the scale?
Why should i have it, and not the anteater who
loves her children?
Why should i have it and not the camel?
Come to think of it, what about the tape trees?
What about the blue iris?
What about the little stones, sitting alone in the moonlight?
What about roses, and lemons, and their shining leaves?
What about the grass?
-Mary Oliver
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