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At Blackwater Pond

September 05, 1999|Mary Oliver

At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled

after a night of rain.

I dip my cupped hands. I drink

a long time. It tastes

like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold

into my body, waking the bones. I hear them

deep inside me, whispering

oh what is that beautiful thing

that just happened?

From "New and Selected Poems" by Mary Oliver (Beacon Press: 256 pp., $20)

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