The Poet Has Gone

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It’s comfortably cold here-

Winter birds have all come-

The pond is full

With water, tree-shadows and fish-

The blue sky seems dreamy,

So are the night stars-

Things of beauty,

Scattered everywhere

Like a Mary Oliver page-

Yet there’s an uncanny calm-

Where’s the ecstasy gone

With the “luminous fruits”,

“emerald eddies”, “lean owls”

“egrets”, “daisies” and all……

When I close my eyes

I see ‘red’

What’s burning, methinks-

A fire in a forest in a faraway land

Or a heart?

An ear of mine catches a note-

Is it a dirge in the woods?

May be-

A poet is gone-

Words in inverted commas are from Mary Oliver’s Poems

 

Posted for Poetry Pantry #436 @ Poets United

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