Mary Oliver

This Day, and Probably Tomorrow Also

Full of thought, regret, hop dashed or not dashed yet,
full of memory, pride, and more than enough
of spilled, personal grief.

I begin another page, another poem.

So many notions fill the day! I give them
gowns of words, sometimes I give them
little shoes that rhyme.

What an elite life!

While somewhere someone is kissing a face that is crying.
While somewhere women are walking out, at two in the morning--
many miles to find water
While somewhere a bomb is getting ready to explode.

Mary Oliver