She steps into the dark swamp <br />where the long wait ends. <br /> <br />The secret slippery package <br />drops to the weeds. <br /> <br />She leans her long neck and tongues it <br />between breaths slack with exhaustion <br /> <br />and after a while it rises and becomes a creature <br />like her, but much smaller. <br /> <br />So now there are two. And they walk together <br />like a dream under the trees. <br /> <br />In early June, at the edge of a field <br />thick with pink and yellow flowers <br /> <br />I meet them. <br />I can only stare. <br /> <br />She is the most beautiful woman <br />I have ever seen. <br /> <br />Her child leaps among the flowers, <br />the blue of the sky falls over me <br /> <br />like silk, the flowers burn, and I want <br />to live my life all over again, to begin again, <br /> <br />to be utterly <br />wild.<br /><br />Mary Oliver<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-meeting/
