Last Days

Things are
changing; things are starting to
spin, snap, fly off into
the blue sleeve of the long
afternoon. Oh and ooh
come whistling out of the perished mouth
of the grass, as things
turn soft, boil back
into substance and hue. As everything,
forgetting its own enchantment, whispers:
I too love oblivion why not it is full
of second chances. Now,
hiss the bright curls of the leaves. Now!
booms the muscle of the wind.

(Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems, Volume One, Beacon Press, 1992)

I've had this feeling that there is change in the air. Maybe it's an intuition? Maybe it's hope? Maybe it's a last ditch effort to fend off despair, to hold oblivion at bay?

Comments

Jan said…
I hadn't read this one before--Thanks. A change. . . .scary but good.
Mompriest said…
Intriguing, the idea that oblivion is full of second chances....and the image of things spinning off into the blue sleeve of a long afternoon....

but curious this, everything forgetting its own enchantment whispers about oblivion....
Jennifer said…
Hoping and praying that your intuition is foretelling a wonderful change.

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