Me

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, 

with not a single friend, 

for they are all smilers and talkers 

and therefore unsuitable.

 

I don’t really want to be witnessed 

talking to the catbirds

or hugging the old black oak tree. 

I have my way of praying, as you no doubt have yours.

 

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. 

I can sit on the top of a dune as motionless 

as an uprise of weeds, 

until the foxes run by unconcerned. 

I can hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing.

 

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, 

I must love you very much.

 

- Mary Oliver, How I Go To The Woods