the nourishing dark bread of poetry

morning coffee and my fellow

books with me on the table

I am happy to be outside

last day away

I read Mary Oliver for breakfast

for inspiration, for perspective

she talks of many little and big creatures

her walks and paying attention

I get distracted by the owners’ three cats

that have been around but didn’t decide

to bother me until just now

one, young and energetic, chasing flies

one, climbing the tree to avoid the first

one, trying to itch its back on the bench

where I sit

I came here to read, I remind myself

so I turn and swallow Mary’s words

“be with the beetle, be with the wind

that’s the nourishing dark bread of poetry”

the nutrients of these lines fill my body

I lift my eyes to look again at the cats

I lift my body to be with them

full of respect for the gift of words

that point me outside — to the world