Goldfinches by Mary Oliver

Some goldfinches were having a melodious argument
at the edge of a puddle. The birds wanted to bathe, or
perhaps just to dip their heads and look at themselves,
and they were having trouble with who should be
first, and so on. So they discussed it while I stood in
the distance, listening. Perhaps in Tibet, in the old
holy places, they also have such fragile bells. Or are
these birds really just that, bells come to us--come to
this road in America--let us bow our heads and
remember now how we used to do it, say a prayer.
Meanwhile the birds bathe and splash and have a
good time. Then they fly off, their dark wings opening
from their bright, yellow bodies; their tiny feet,
all washed, clasping the air.


  1. So lovely. Mary Oliver is one of my favorite poets. Yes, it speaks to me today and the quote below as well :-). And so you don't worry-I never had health insurance anyway :-), so no harm done. XOXO

  2. Great...THAT doesn't make me worry at ALL!!! Come to my place, extra meds and neuro checks for you:>)

  3. I love animals and I'm particularly into birds, lately, so that was lovely. The Goldfinch is the official bird of my home state, Washington (GO SEAHAWKS!!!).

  4. Thanks Annie H.I am booking a flight tomorrow, you mind if I bring my four animal kids? :-). XOXO

  5. Fresh from the theater, full of art and mystery, this poem nearly made me cry!! Thank you!

  6. Dear Annie--we just lost our pet rat, so plenty of room. Bring it on!!!!!!

  7. Interesting...Mary Oliver's someone people keep pointing me toward....I think birds and puddles are probably all bells, in that they bounce back what we project onto them....

  8. You had a pet rat? I am sorry he/she passed. I am booking my flight this week :-).


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