Holds Upon Happiness

I come back to Mary Oliver’s poetry fairly frequently. It is very approachable poetry and it reminds me of the New England area I lived in for years and still love. I would love to be walking along the shore, smelling the salty air, and feeling the sand beneath my feet. One day in summerwhen everythinghas already been more than enoughthe wild beds startexploding open along the bermof the sea; day after dayyou sit near them; day after daythe honey keeps on comingin the red cups and the beeslike amber drops rollin the petals: there is no end,believe me! to the inventions of summer,to the happiness your bodyis willing to…

Donald Hall was an American poet, editor, and literary critic. His poetry “explores the longing for a more bucolic past and reflects (an) abiding reverence for nature.” Hall attended Harvard and Oxford University. He was married to the poet, Jane Kenyon, for many years. In June's high light she stood at the sinkWith a glass of wine,And listened for the bobolink,And crushed garlic in late sunshine.I watched her cooking, from my chair.She pressed her lipsTogether, reached for kitchenware,And tasted sauce from her fingertips."It's ready now. Come on," she said."You light the candle."We ate, and talked, and went to bed,And slept. It was a miracle.Summer KitchenDonald Hall