How I go to the woods
by Mary Oliver


Ordinarily I go to the wods alone, with not a single friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore unsuitable.

I don't really want to be witnessed talking to to the catbirds or hugging old black oak tree.  I have my way of praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible.  I can sit on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds, until the foxes run by unconcerned.  I can hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing.

                                      ~--~~~~--~

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much.








© Mary Oliver 2010.  From Swan: Poems and Prose Poems, by Mary Oliver (Beacon Press, 2010).