How appropriate that on the first day of Poetry Month Red Bird, Mary Oliver’s twelfth book of poetry, arrived at Lemuria. For those of us who love her work, it is another gift from her to us—one she has been giving for over forty years.
There are sixty-one new poems in this collection, the most ever in a single volume of her work, and each one is a gem—a feast for the soul. She speaks, as always, of the natural world and her gratitude for its gifts, helping us to be more aware as we go about our days. She speaks also in poignant ways of those whom she has loved and who have loved her in return. Of course, let’s not forget her disobedient dog, Percy, about whom the following is written:
Percy and Books ( Eight)
Percy does not like it when I read a book.
He puts his face over the top of it and moans.
He rolls his eyes, sometimes he moans.
The sun is up, he says, and the wind is down.
The tide is out and the neighbor’s dogs are playing.
But Percy, I say. Ideas! The elegance of language!
The insights, the funniness, the beautiful stories
that rise and fall and turn into strength, or courage.Books? says Percy. I ate one once, and it was enough.
Let’s go.
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