Mary Oliver in the Canyon

Kyle Moxley

What did you notice? The tears of since-dried waterfalls Leaving their streaks on the mourning limestone; The exuberance of the pink cliffs Rosy-cheeked, grinning down into the river; Ripples skipping excitedly on the blue water To lose themselves in the vastness.

What did you hear? The gentle roaring Of the river running her fingers over the rocks; The soft call of the solitary songbird: “Where are you, love?” Loudest, screaming from under The insects, the water, the wind––A great echoing silence.

What did you admire? The patient water that carves her path From timid rocks that melt at her whispering; The grasses sunning themselves on the banks Uncaring of next spring’s flood Knowing that what gives Will take; And the boulder, content…

What astonished you? The insect pulling tenderly On the surface of the water, His mindless grace; The lone tree, high on a rock, Praying daily To the rain that teases this dry earth: “Come down, Mother, come down.”

What would you like to see again? My brother, his grin, his clarity Hair and days long when I saw him last, I ignore the beauty for a moment To weep for his absence. And yet, like canyon walls, Across worlds we love each other stubbornly Until some great apocalypse Brings us, crashing down, to embrace.

What was most tender? The soft shape in the sand Of the frog’s midnight journey And her tadpoles, blindly pressing their bodies Into the pebbles, resting; The smallest of young plants Poking his head above the sand, his leaves Tasting, for the first time, the bitter sunlight And choosing still to grow.

What was most wonderful? The secret waterfall, Trickling quietly for no one Save the moss, keeping it company As it waits for a flash flood; The great violence of the river Rushing with furious desperation Longing, longing for the sea.

What did you think was happening? Under it all there is a great need. These trees need the rain––But also the drought; These rocks need the water they resist To seep into their wrinkles And tear them apart; So it goes: Every piece of this canyon Aching for each other.