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MAPLES By Mary Oliver

July 29, 2001

The trees have become

suddenly very happy

it is the rain

it is the quick white summer rain

the trees are in motion under it

they are swinging back and forth they are tossing

the heavy blossoms of their heads

they are twisting their shoulders

even their feet chained to the ground feel good

thin and gleaming

nobody can prove it but any fool can feel it

they are full of electricity now and the shine isn't just pennies

it pours out from the deepest den

oh pretty trees

patient deep-planted

may you have many such days

flinging your bodies in silver circles shaking your heads

over the swamps and the pastures

rimming the fields and the long roads hurrying by.

From "West Wind: Poems and Prose Poems"

by Mary Oliver (Mariner Books: 66 pp., $13)

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