how would you live then mary oliver
The New Yorker shared this gem about her in January 2019. or full of argument. Happy Thursday! Next two hours, I kept checking twitter, instagram, and facebook- New Yorker, NPR, New York times books- articles, favorite poems, and the hashtags with her name. But I understood that it was my turn to pay attention, to be there for her. "Wild Geese". When I lived by Little Sister Pond, I dreamed I was the feather of the blue heron left on the shore. I stood a while, listening to the small sounds of the woods and looking at the stars. In the 17 years since my diagnosis, Id struggled to understand the lessons that accompany a life-threatening illness in a twenty-something. Ms. Oliver died yesterday, January 17, 2019. to California as she Mary Oliver. In celebration of change, the Friday Poem this week is Mary Oliver's 'Fall Song'. Mary Oliver What if a hundred rose-breasted grosbeaks flew in circles around your head? Then forget it. I spent a mostly silent week with seven others, meditating in the zendo, hiking in the Ventana wilderness and soaking in the sulfurous hot springs. In the poem's final stanza, Oliver asks: "what are . (1945-2014) . It is no exaggeration to say that she gave me the blueprint, the road. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. When the thumb of fear lifts, we are so alive. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blogs author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. Mary Oliver's words are as alive to me as they ever were. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums. is that "thank you" should appear somewhere. 1. Always have. I knew the poet The prolific poet Mary Oliver died on January 17th at her home in Hobe Sound, Florida, at the age of 83. My comments follow. Mary Oliver That time I thought I could not go any closer to grief without dying I went closer, and I did not die. What ifthe bees filled your walls with honey and allyou needed to do was ask them and they would fillthe bowl? Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?". There are two tributes to Mary Oliver published since her passing that I enjoyed: https://www.newyorker.com/culture/postscript/mary-oliver-deep-direct-love-for-the-world?utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook&mbid=social_facebook&utm_social-type=owned&utm_brand=tny&fbclid=IwAR0ur_n_ZbI3Qmbkmz6TWKGviZb1oyEr_hw-_ublkqSu7NctB5l5Kd71YOg, https://www.washingtonpost.com/entertainment/books/mary-oliver-did-something-rare-she-made-poetry-accessible-thats-not-a-bad-thing/2019/01/18/6aacf3ee-1b2d-11e9-88fe-f9f77a3bcb6c_story.html?fbclid=IwAR0vXuFvS678z6TTxFEWXjn0UaXwqkzWpq6PWM3DeZbUWFvlZRJ-rmi40rw&noredirect=on&utm_term=.9afebbd0bc77. I could relate. Later I was the footsteps that follow the sea. Said the river I am part of holiness. - Mary Oliver. Still, I was bent, and my laughter, as the poet said, was nowhere to be found. Elouise Renich Fraser and Telling the Truth, 2013 to 2022. button fruit. Maria Popova at Brain Pickings has often written on Ms. Oliver. "To find a new word that is accurate and different, you have to be alert for it.". It was my salvation. I love that she made a world out of words, and that it was her salvation. Sunflowers and Poetry | Why I Wake Early. What if the bees filled your walls with honey and all you needed to do was ask them and they would fill the bowl? The theme of nature and environment is evident in the poet's works and sayings. Her questions instruct me in some way how I can live my life., Still, theres no mistaking that When Death Comes also has taught me about lifes final chapter: Death. Doesnt everything die at last, and too soon? "The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time." ~ Mary Oliver. arid region, hoping she could help Red Pill shows you the truth, pulls back the curtain, steals your naivetyThe red pill is the Apple from the Tree of Knowledge. What if the brook slid downhill just The cows moo in the distance telling me to cry on my own time, that now is the time Im supposed to go feed them. as a field daisy, and as singular. Poem written by Mary Oliver, first published in Blue Iris (2004) Published in 2020 by Penguin Books in Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver, p. 167. Meanwhile the world goes on. Mary Oliver, "May". from Dead Poet's Society. when youre zesting an orange. . flew in circles around your head? And I too, whispered the moss beneath the water. when death comes the bowl? What if you finally sawthat the sunflowers, turning toward the sun all day and every day who knows how, but they do it weremore precious, more meaningful than gold?-------------------------How I Go to the WoodsOrdinarily I go to the woods alone, with not a singlefriend, for they are all smilers and talkers and thereforeunsuitable.I don't really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirdsor hugging the old black oak tree. Love, No fear. and these body-clothes, Here the clam deep in the speckled sand. What if Don't blame the river that nothing happened quickly. About Mary Oliver. It took me by surprise. Boy oh boy.. I've got a lot to say about a short poem..ah to be a dumb man.. Woke up somewhat tender this morning, Thank you for reminding me what matters most. The fox asks a woman about her opinion on fox-hunting, and the two discuss their differences. Before that week, Id never been much of one for poetry; poets seemed so esoteric, their work so highbrow. She said shed taken it as her personal mantra. She found that she was allowed to love the world.How Would You Live Then?What if a hundred rose-breasted grosbeaks flew in circles around your head? In this poem, Ms. Oliver strategically uses the metaphor of a lily while also describing the longing need to live a carefree, desolate but yet fulfilling life. fills with fruit. Prisoners sometimes say what keeps them going is having a room with a view. So why not get started immediately. But I wanted to share my unedited thoughts here as they tumbled into my head. Mary Oliver gave us enough words, ideas, observations and feelings to fill infinite lifetimes. Last year, after the divorce, surfing off the coast of Kona with my three nieces, I realized Id never felt more alive, even when wiping out in the rough surf. Yes, the idea that my life is precious appeals to me, however it is the reminder of those two lines that are inspiring me . When its over, I dont want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real. I'd been to the river before, a few times. - Mary Oliver. Is that not a road map for how to live which is also to say, how to die? When my mother was diagnosed with cancer in 2013 and treated at the same hospital where Id been treated, I had anticipatory flashbacks about entering those glass doors. The other dog on the sofa asleep and oblivious to the news of the world. and every daywho knows how, but they do itwere Life-Life-Life-Life. I noticed the sign said. Photo found at npr.org, Love the poem and love your insight on it , Gorgeous photo! And I love that shes the reason Words for the Year Exists. At the suggestion of our group leader, I bought a couple of Ms. Olivers books at the monasterys little bookstore. And to write music or poems about. What if a hundred rose-breasted grosbeaks What remains? "You must not ever stop being whimsical. This morning when I woke, Mary Oliver was still alive in my world. housed as they are in the same body. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive new posts by email. "You must not ever stop being whimsical. [POEM] Night and the River, by Mary Oliver I have seen the great feet leaping into the river and I have seen moonlight milky along the long muzzle and I have seen the body of something scaled and wonderful slumped in the sudden fire of its mouth, and I could not tell which fit me more comfortably, the power, or the powerlessness; If you've become enamored with the works of Mary Oliver are trying to decide what to read next, a good place might be one of these 10 poets like Mary Oliver. My comments follow. above this difficult world.". Your courage in life perpetuates courage to live headlong in all of our lives. I can hear the almostunbearable sound of the roses singing.If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must loveyou very much.-------------------------SunriseYou can die for itan idea, or the world. It is her awareness of the reality of death that draws her into the beauty before her more fully, wondering at the "roughage" that "shines like a miracle.". It includes a conversation between a fox and a human being. When first observing this poem, one might swiftly . you painted a picture of a tree, and the leaves Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Here the clam deep in the speckled sand. Then, trust. When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse. Be astonished. Best Mary Oliver quotes on life. along this industrial strip What if you suddenly sawthat the silver of water was brighter than the silverof money? Physically. No pain. with its rangy palm trees, with your one wild and precious life? You wouldn't believe what once or twice I have seen. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, Are my boots old? when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse, to buy me, and snaps the purse shut; You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. I was the pond lily, my root delicate as an artery, my face like a star, my happiness brimming. Its impossible to be lonely I Ask Percy How I Should Live My Life by Mary Oliver, via Red Bird: Poems, Beacon Press. (((HUGS))) . But either way, Mary Oliver would still be gone. Mary Oliver. What ifthe mockingbird came into the house with you and became your advisor? Mary Oliver. And, when she looked there, she found forgiveness. She, though, saved my life on so many occasions that I feel I knew her all my life. Pingback: The Reasons We Read | Books Here And There. Is my coat torn? Mary Oliver's "How Would You Live Then?" reminds us of right now, that special season as we transition from summer to fall. "Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.". I love that Mary Olivers poetry saved your life more than once. Read more quotes from Mary Oliver. and I think of each life as a flower, as common Lindsay Whalen, whose authorized biography of Oliver is forthcoming from Penguin Press, remembers her subject, and the. What if the brook slid downhill justpast your bedroom window so you could listento its slow prayers as you fell asleep? I'll just tell you this: only if there are angels in your head will you ever, possibly, see one. I laugh when I read this poem. After excitement we are so restful. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums. And therefore I look upon everything a mouth with which to give shouts of joy For me, and for you, too. What if the mockingbird came into the house with you and became your advisor? So whats changed? Butthis morning,climbing the familiar hills in the familiarfabric of dawn, I thought of China,and India and Europe, and I thoughthow the sun blazesfor everyone just so joyfullyas it rises under the lashesof my own eyes, and I thoughtI am so many!What is my name?What is the nameof the deep breath I would takeover and over for all of us?Call it whatever you want,it is happiness, it is another oneof the ways to enterfire. Surely God had his hand in this, as well as friends. By The New York Times Jan. 17, 2019 Mary Oliver, the prolific and award-winning poet, died on Thursday. How would you live then? What ifthe stars began to shout their names, or to runthis way and that way above the clouds? and the whole room , When death comes A room with even a tiny window on a tiny plant or part of a tree branch. equal seekers of sweetness. Is my coat torn? and each body a lion of courage, and something From "How would you live then?" by Mary Oliver "My work is loving the world. One day, driving to the farmers you needed to do was ask them and they would fill 1. This poem expresses no idea more complex or subtle than that she stubbornly wants to believe what she wants to believe--which is, of course, the same basis for Flat-Earthers, science-deniers, goat-entrail readers, and every other believer in the most rank nonsense. "The Fourth Sign of The Zodiac (Part 3) by Mary Oliver I know, you never intended to be in this world. Your grief, swollen heart, and poetry books. If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don't hesitate. Anyone can read what you share. became your advisor? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?. (You remember The Matrix right? I shared and recited from heart the only Mary Oliver poem I can recite from heart, which I really love ("The Uses of Sorrow"). Change), You are commenting using your Facebook account. 10 Best Mary Oliver Works about Life and Death, Love, Heavy. What you wrote is so beautiful. Mary Oliver has touched countless readers with her brilliantly crafted verse, expounding on her love for the physical world and the powerful bonds between . off Marys Y, worried a brother Animals praise a good day, a good . I Ask Percy How I Should Live My Life by Mary Oliver*, Mary Oliveron What Attention Really Means and Her Moving Elegy for Her Soul Mate, Ms. Oliver read her iconic poem Wild Geese, The Reasons We Read | Books Here And There, Meet Virginia: A Healthy Dose of Something New Michelle R. Terry, Love Love Love, says Percy A Courage Way of Life, "When Love Arrives" by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye, "B" (If I Should Have a Daughter) by Sarah Kay, Mouthful of Forevers by Clementine von Radics, "What Will Your Verse Be?" In our group of eight, two of us were cancer survivors a woman who had breast cancer, and me. And you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life." Mary Oliver, Upstream 16. And I felt- Really!! Give in to it.". tags: gratitude. I was a bride married to amazement. In 2011, I was a poet who had stopped writing poetry. Perfect. Let me I want to be light and frolicsome. Thank you for yours. I will miss Mary Oliver. The world I live in Whistling swans Storage For Tom Shaw S.S.J.E. Therefore, it is not surprising that there are so many Mary Oliver quotes about trees, flowers, animals, and other symbols of nature. How would you live then? This week, the Friday Poem from Mary Oliver. telling them all, over and over, how it is Am I no longer young, and still half-perfect? "I simply do not distinguish between work and play." Maybe Oliver looks over my shoulder, nudges me up from my chair, and says, Enough of that, Christina, you have work to do. like an iceberg between the shoulder blades. if Mary Oliver did own Said the river, 'Imagine everything you can imagine, then keep on going.'. In this poem, the "black, curved blade" of death is set right alongside the field of poppies bowing gently in the wind. the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. My post-marriage life has not been entirely smooth traveling, but I am profoundly content to have chosen life over surrender, energy over inertia. I also passed those seven days reading Mary Oliver, the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet who died this week at the age of 83. 1.6m. You only have to let the soft animal of your body. Mary Oliver in interview with Krista Tippett Thank you, dear Mary. The robins hopping around my backyard, the swallows imploring me to fill the feeder, the thrush singing of the perfect, stone-hard beauty of everything, the poinsettia on the counter desperately clinging to life, the floor that needs sweeping, the words that wouldnt come and now wont stop, just like the tears, the stupid little tears for someone I never met. Change), You are commenting using your Twitter account. I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened, The Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Mary Oliver and her dog, Ricky, in her Florida home. document.getElementById( "ak_js_1" ).setAttribute( "value", ( new Date() ).getTime() ); This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. We are not fully here. Oliver was a widely popular writer whose grounded, unadorned writing style resonated. Then, trust. "I'd rather write about polar bears than people.". My dear sweet friend, Michelle knows my cave-dwelling tendencies and shared the news with me this morning by texting me a couple of links about Olivers passing. Even with Michelle, all I could text were pithy sad-face emoticons and a heart. And anyway, what's wrong with Maybe? Mary Oliver. Give up your body heat, your beating heart. Syme said there was a "sneering sexism" to the criticism of Oliver's poetry. Mary Oliver Blue Iris: Poems and Essays Penguin Random House, 2006. the stars began to shout their names, or to run Ross Gay is the author of three books of poetry: Against Which, Bringing the Shovel Down, and Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude, which won the 2015 National Book Critics Circle . What if the stars began to shout their names, or to runthis way and that way above the clouds? It is no exaggeration to say that she gave me the blueprint, the road map, for the rest of my life. Mary Oliver was born in 1935 in Maple Heights, Ohio. - Mary Oliver. I am still searching for words. between the eyes, sharp Every day, I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delightthat leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light. The kind that comes from close observation of nature and human nature, which Mary then turns into gold. As a young poet, Oliver was deeply influenced by Edna St. Vincent Millay and briefly lived in Millay's home, helping Norma Millay organize her . You do not have to be good. Let me keep company always with those who say "Look!" and laugh in astonishment, and bow their heads. The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture. which is mostly standing still and learning to be It feels weird to be grieving so deeply the loss of this woman Ive never met. I mean, belonging to it. past the Parent Navel Orange Tree, Had she been there herself, I could not have found myself more perfectly in tune with her words, her heart, her soul. Theres no fear in her words; in fact, just the opposite as she embraces this natural next step, considering eternity as another possibility.. I am grateful for what she gave me, gave us. Then, love the world." ~ Mary Oliver. I jumped back and watched as it flowed on across the road and down into the dark. Pastor Cathy reads Psalm 19 and Mary Oliver's "How Would You Live Then?" from the memorial garden at Grace Presbyterian. Maybe she somehow mysteriously landed here, or on a previous blog of mine in a past lifetime where I lamented my little dog Spot and the lymphoma I knew would steal her from me. in search of blackberries, honey, Below you will find the best Mary Oliver quotes that reflect the woman's love for our planet. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift." - Mary Oliver "I don't want to end up simply having visited this world." What ifthe bees filled your walls with honey and all you needed to do was ask them and they would fillthe bowl? I explained all that as we sat knee to knee, relishing our newfound voices, and then read Ms. Olivers lines out loud, especially focusing on the last one: I dont want to end up simply having visited this world., The other cancer survivor was already a devotee of Ms. Olivers, and of that poem in particular. ~Mary Oliver, Blue Iris. its fenced-in belly- I worried 4. Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird equal seekers of sweetness. "Whatever it is, don't be afraid of its plenty. Making my way through life has required searching for inspiration and I found it in the following words pulled from Mary Oliver's poem Wild Geese: You do not have to be good. How does she keep doing this? We shake with joy, we shake with grief. My first thought was, 83? document.getElementById( "ak_js_1" ).setAttribute( "value", ( new Date() ).getTime() ); Blue Iris: Poems and Essays Penguin Random House, 2006, The Friday Poem For the young who want to by MargePiercy, The Saturday Read: Manifesto by BernardineEvaristo, The Friday Poem: There are no boring people in this world by YevgenyYevtushenko. had wrested her business away. "I believe in kindness, also in mischief; also in singing, especially when . I simply would not be who I am without her poems and her Handbook. to buy me, and snaps the purse shut; when death comes like the measle-pox. Like clock-work, these bits of nature became companions. to find the poet in this Ms. Oliver liked to pose questions: tough, imponderable life questions. That, too, was new to me, as I started to use not only my eyes, but my ears and even my nose, to pay attention: to see, to hear and to smell the world around me. I went to Quaker meeting this morning, and a woman shared about Mary Oliver's passing and her poetry. and each name a comfortable music in the mouth, all these stupid pop cultures things draw so much attention, but Olivers quiet passing didnt even create a single crack in that black whole of social media. notice a sign for an insurance It doesnt feel like you have to take a seminar in order to understand Mary Olivers poetry, Ruth Franklin wrote in The New Yorker in 2017. past your bedroom window so you could listen I never knew her. Joy is not made to be a crumb.". From "Devotions . And this is what she modeled. I wish I could live all of life the way I. Yes, thats exactly how I felt that week when I read When Death Comes, one of Ms. Olivers best-known works. Sure, I tried to remember to stop and smell the roses, but other aphorisms, like everything happens for a reason or when a door closes, a window opens left me cold at best. I also passed those seven days reading Mary Oliver, the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet who died this week at the age of 83. That V hit me right when death comes market in the Sears parking lot, (LogOut/ I don't want to end up simply having visited this world, Perfect, Mike. Maybe she thought of her own little dog Percy and maybe shed a tear for both of our losses, maybe she smiled serenely when she read how she saved my life and how grateful I would forever be for her, for her words. And, when. You see, I had unplugged from the noise of the world yesterday, as I seem to do more and more, so I had not yet heard the news of her passing. "Love yourself. More likely, I knew, I had been What if a hundred rose-breasted grosbeaks flew in circles around your head? What if Mary Oliver, from "Roses," Felicity. I can't find. It took me years to understand. Maybe on some sleepy Sunday morning, just for fun, she googled the name of one of her poems. Then said my friend Daniel, (brave even among lions), "It's not the weight you carry Tell about it.". their wild and precious lives. Shes speaking directly to you as a human being.. 5 min. Then, go to sleep. The poet Alison Luterman wrote yesterday: What a bright light Mary Oliver was and is, and how much we treasure what she gave us. - Mary Oliver. when death comes "You must not ever give anyone else the responsibility for your life .". this way and that way above the clouds? - Mary Oliver. I really enjoy many of Mary Oliver's poems. You and Mary Oliver always bring a smile to me! I finally said, thank you for telling me.. adjusted numbers, Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain. Thats what I try to ask myself. Meanwhile the world goes on. Mary Oliver. forms and Polaroids of water Dear Christina, The following are Mary Oliver quotes reminding us never to give that part of who we are naturally up. to its slow prayers as you fell asleep? I have my way ofpraying, as you no doubt have yours.Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible, I can siton the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,until the foxes run by unconcerned. What ifthe mockingbird came into the house with you andbecame your advisor? Allusion The poem, "Lilies" which was written by Mary Oliver in 1935 was one which I found to be rather compelling. And now you'll be telling stories of my coming back and they won't be false, and they won't be true but they'll be real. On her walks she paid attention and was astonished, and in her poems, she told us about it. So just in case. How the grass and the flowers came to exist, a god-tale From why I wake early . I dont want to end up simply having visited this world. My memories of her remains. the bees filled your walls with honey and all a box full of darkness. Driving down Arlington Ave., What if the bees filled your walls with honey and all In honor of Earth Day 2021, Julie selected three Mary Oliver poems to share.The New Yorker shared this gem about her in January 2019 Oliver gave voice to the process of confronting ones dark places, of peering underneath toadstools and into stagnant ponds. I wanted to try to process my grief, here, with you. The Yoga of Mary Oliver. And whenever I will miss her, I will search her in her written words. The world is a darker place without her. as an arrow. I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: The speaker admits that she was disgusted by this discovery and immediately suggests . She attended both Ohio State University and Vassar College, but did not receive a degree from either institution. as though I had wings.". The poet insists that regardless of how desperate or lonely people get, they can always listen to the exciting and harsh cries of the wild geese. Then, go to sleep. (LogOut/ I could not have had a better beginning. Thank you for this, Christy. and Pic N Save, I would always Change). The acclaimed and wildly popular poet Mary Oliver died yesterday. . helping people protect 7. "Forty Years" Giphy "for forty years the sheets of white paper have passed under my hands and I have tried to improve their peaceful emptiness. What if? I drink a long time. Jean McKay from Wild Geese. Her words remain. No hashtags were developed. I recall distinctly how at the end of the silent retreat I was so excited not only to be able to speak again but to talk about the final stanzas of that poem and what they meant to me: When its over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. Mary Oliver. Look around: you have Share published poems and discuss poetry here. But alas the world spins madly on. "Let me keep my distance, always, from those who think they have the answers. I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness? she writes. You don't hear such voices in an hour or a day. What if the brook slid downhill just past your bedroom window so you could listento its slow prayers as you fell asleep? And you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life.". for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. I was drinking my second round of tea in a messy over-crowded morning, when I read about Mary Olivers death on NPR. astonished. At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled after a night of rain. Exactly two weeks after I referred to American poet Mary Oliver in my post "Observe with Passion," she died of lymphoma in her home in Florida.I suspect if you asked, Mary Oliver would tell you she lived 84 good years, most of them spent with her partner, photographer Molly Malone Cook at their home in Provincetown, Massachusetts at the extreme tip of Cape Cod. Oliver was an early fan of Edna St.Vincent Millay, which led to her meeting her longtime partner. 10. And I too, said the stone. You may listen and read the transcript at OnBeing.org. What ifyou painted a picture of a tree, and the leavesbegan to rustle, and a bird cheerfully sangfrom its painted branches? Ross Gay. Mary Oliver. What misery to be afraid of death. It felt good. The world I live in and believe in is wider than that. Elouise Renich Fraser, 22 May 2021 You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. What if Read Popovas piece Mary Oliveron What Attention Really Means and Her Moving Elegy for Her Soul Mate and also listen to Ms. Oliver read her iconic poem Wild Geese (the first poem I ever posted here. which is my work. if I have made of my life something particular, and real. What if you suddenly saw that the silver of water was brighter than the silver of money? Mary Oliver Saved My Life. What a time they have, these two. This week, the Friday Poem from Mary Oliver. Let me The idea of her remainsand isnt that how we all knew her, anyway? to the rest of the world.". Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. It's not a competition, it's a doorway. What if you suddenly sawthat the silver of water was brighter than the silver of money? along the shining beach, or the rubble, or the dust. Goodbye Ms. Oliver, and just in case you really ARE reading over my shoulder, Thank you. What if you finally saw that the sunflowers, turning toward the sun all day and every day-who knows how, but they do it-were more precious, more meaningful than gold?
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