tribute to poet mary oliver (1935-2019)

when i heard that you had died
i thought about the friction that makes crickets sing and all energy released from wood, when sparked, to keep us warm

i thought of death as simply
sliding into a thousand pieces of light, wholeness, like fish scales flashing unison in the sea

and prayer no more than sitting in tall grass
thinking of those who love

i like to think you slipped between realms
like the fog amid firs and how much it stuns
me this january morning with such ordinary beauty

you taught me to listen to birdsong when i wake and look west no matter where i am, chasing last rose hues of dusk filtered off the clouds

maybe worlds are closer than we think:
the oh! how i loved my life,
the thank you, and the
more, please

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