Monday, April 13, 2015


Daffs. 12 x 12. Oil and charcoal on canvas.

By Mary Oliver
I lift my face to the pale flowers
of the rain. They’re soft as linen,
clean as holy water. Meanwhile
my dog runs off, noses down packed leaves
into damp, mysterious tunnels.
He says the smells are rising now
stiff and lively; he says the beasts
are waking up now full of oil,
sleep sweat, tag-ends of dreams. The rain
rubs its shining hands all over me.
My dog returns and barks fiercely, he says
each secret body is the richest advisor,
deep in the black earth such fuming
nuggets of joy!


Carolyn Rondthaler said...

Love this Katherine---both the painting and the poem. I saw that dog today! She was so happy sniffing around with all the new smells. We lowly humans miss a lot sometimes, but Mary Oliver knows how to connect us.

SamArtDog said...

Lovely daffies!
On these spring mornings, walking the dog is always a poem.