It’s not that I wasn’t aware of Mary Oliver; I was. But I’d never really given her a lot of thought. Until, that is, Nicole started posting about her. All of a sudden, I was hooked. I bought Devotions and have yet to find a poem I don’t like.
Nicole recently posted a few delightful questions to my Ask My Anything, and two of them were about poetry.
(In case you don’t know this about me, my Master’s degree is in writing, but specifically in writing poetry.)
First, Nicole asked: “Who is your favourite poet and do you have a favourite poem?”
Well, this is a very difficult two-part question. Do I have a favorite poet?! I don’t think I do! There are a lot of poets I love and admire, but please don’t make me choose. Along with Mary Oliver, I’d probably list Louise Gluck, Linda Gregg, Jane Hirschfield, and Sylvia Plath up there as my favorites, but there are a bunch of iconic poems I love by many other poets.
Do I have a favorite poem? Again, this is challenging because different poems speak to me differently depending on the context. The one poem I have memorized is “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost, and that poem has kept me company on many, many a sleepless night. (At one time, I knew it, literally, in the literal sense of the word literally, backwards and forwards.) The one poem I perhaps most admire, at least formally, is “One Art” by Elizabeth Bishop. It’s a villanelle, a form I have never been able to master (ha, as though one can master any form; even Shakespeare has some lesser sonnets, don’t at me), and it’s one of those magic poems that becomes richer and more meaningful each time you read it. No wonder it’s a Poetry 101 stalwart. Okay, I feel myself on the precarious and slippery ledge of listing every single poem I love for you, so let’s windmill those arms and regain our balance and move on to Nicole’s second question.
“Which poet would you recommend for me, knowing my love for nature and Mary Oliver (I need a new book of poetry for pre-yoga reading).”
Let us first all acknowledge that there is no one like Mary Oliver. The precision of her eye, her imagery – The awe that carries through in her descriptions of the world around us – Her humor, her ability to balance the mundane and the sublime – I don’t think there’s anyone who can pack all those wonderful things into (pretty much) every poem.
But there are some wonderful poets who have Oliver’s eye for finding the profound either in nature or the mundane or both.
Here are a few poets (and accompanying Oliver-esque poems) I think might be worth checking out.
- Linda Gregg – “The Weight” or “Let Birds”
- Jane Kenyon – “The Clearing” or “After an Illness, Walking the Dog”
- Ada Limón – “What It Looks Like to Us and the Words We Use” or “The Last Thing”
- Charles Wright – “Sitting Outside at the End of Autumn” or “Clear Night” or “After Reading Tu Fu, I Go Outside to the Dwarf Orchard”
- Jane Hirschfield – “Green Striped Melons” or “Tree” or “Waking This Morning Dreamless After Long Sleep”
- Marie Howe – “The Copper Beech” or “What the Living Do”
- Donald Hall – “Her Garden” or “Gold”
Of these poets, I am least familiar with Wright and Howe and Limón. The latter is a poet I want to read more widely. If you know her work, I’d love to know where you think I should start. (Maybe with Bright Dead Things?)