Egg Nog is back. So is daylight savings time -- or are we returning to standard? Either way, light and dark take a peculiar turn.
Who has taken the light?
I am a liar. (Or is it 'lier' -- waiting in ambush for a necessary discovery?)
The light is not mine.
I've hidden it within me.
See me through; please!
Who has taken the light?
The Arrowhead
The arrowhead,
which I found beside the river,
was glittering and pointed.
I picked it up, and said,
“Now, it’s mine.”
I thought of showing it to friends.
I thought of putting it—such an imposing trinket—
in a little box, on my desk.
Halfway home, past the cut fields,
the old ghost
stood under the hickories.
“I would rather drink the wind,” he said,
“I would rather eat mud and die
than steal as you steal,
than lie as you lie.”
Poem by Mary OliverI confess.
I am a liar. (Or is it 'lier' -- waiting in ambush for a necessary discovery?)
The light is not mine.
I've hidden it within me.
See me through; please!