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Poetry Friday: Breakage by Mary Oliver

August 19th, 2016 (06:00 am)

Current Mood: hopeful
Current Song: Hearsay by Jonatha Brooke

I go down to the edge of the sea.
How everything shines in the morning light!
The cusp of the whelk,
the broken cupboard of the clam,
the opened, blue mussels,
moon snails, pale pink and barnacle scarred -
and nothing at all whole or shut, but tattered, split,
dropped by the gulls onto the gray rocks and all the moisture gone.
It's like a schoolhouse
of little words,
thousands of words.
First you figure out what each one means by itself,
the jingle, the periwinkle, the scallop
      full of moonlight.

Then you begin, slowly, to read the whole story.

- Breakage by Mary Oliver

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Posted by: Mary Lee Hahn (Mary Lee Hahn)
Posted at: August 20th, 2016 12:30 pm (UTC)

Love this. Parts and wholes. Need them both. (Wouldn't hurt to have an ocean and shore nearby...)

Posted by: Little Willow (slayground)
Posted at: August 20th, 2016 02:17 pm (UTC)

Wouldn't it be nice? :)

Posted by: Doraine Bennett (Doraine Bennett)
Posted at: August 20th, 2016 03:15 pm (UTC)

A beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing it. I love collecting seashells with one of my grandsons who thinks that's the best part of a beach trip.

Posted by: Little Willow (slayground)
Posted at: August 20th, 2016 03:28 pm (UTC)

I love a quiet beach.

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