How I go to the woods

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone,
with not a single friend,
for they are all smilers and talkers
and therefore unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed
talking to the cat, birds or
hugging the old black oak tree.

I have my way of praying,
as you no doubt have yours.
Besides, when I am alone
I can become invisible.

I can sit on the top of a dune as
motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned.

I can hear the almost unhearable
sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me,
I must love you very much.”

― Mary Oliver, Swan: Poems and Prose Poems

Charlie Chamberlayne

By Charlie Chamberlayne

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