My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be
—from “Messenger” by Mary Oliver
Deep Thoughts, by Rilla
Then Again, Perhaps She’d Be Offended by that “Cowrin, Tim’rous” Business
On the Verge