That Little Beast

The Dakota
The Dakota
mcox

That Little Beast

That pretty little beast, a poem,

  has a mind of its own.

Sometimes I want it to crave apples

  but it wants red meat.

Sometimes I want to walk peacefully

  on the shore

and it wants to take off all its clothes

  and dive in.

 

Sometimes I want to use small words

  and make them important

and it starts shouting the dictionary,

  the opportunities.

 

Sometimes I want to sum up and give thanks,

  putting things in order

and it starts dancing around the room

  on its four furry legs, laughing

  and calling me outrageous.

 

But sometimes, when I'm thinking about you,

  and no doubt smiling,

it sits down quietly, one paw under its chin,

  and just listens.

Mary Oliver (1935-2019)