--
The Arrowhead, by Mary Oliver
The arrowhead,
which I found beside the river,
was glittering and pointed.
I picked it up, and said,
"Now, it's mine."
I thought of showing it to friends.
I thought of putting it -- such an imposing trinket --
in a little box, on my desk.
Halfway home, past the cut fields,
the old ghost
stood under the hickories.
"I would rather drink the wind," he said,
"I would rather eat mud and die
than steal as you still steal,
than lie as you still lie."
2 comments:
yikes! that is one haunting, brilliant poem.
i don't know about garnering life from things, but some times there are people who invigorate you by just being around them, i think. is that stealing, too?
I don't think that's like stealing... I think there's a difference between enjoying that energy & trying to possess it. In relationships I think the desire to possess can come out as envy or jealousy?
And I think her point is interesting, that presuming to possess something so natural and historical is silly, because we just rob it of the context that gives it so much meaning.
Mary Oliver was going to be in Lawrence last night, but had to cancel due to illness -- I'll be looking for a reschedule and can let you know!
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