All night <br />I float <br />in the shallow ponds <br />while the moon wanders <br />burning, <br />bone white, <br />among the milky stems. <br />Once <br />I saw her hand reach <br />to touch the muskrat’s <br />small sleek head <br />and it was lovely, oh, <br />I don’t want to argue anymore <br />about all the things <br />I thought I could not <br />live without! Soon <br />the muskrat <br />will glide with another <br />into their castle <br />of weeds, morning <br />will rise from the east <br />tangled and brazen, <br />and before that <br />difficult <br />and beautiful <br />hurricane of light <br />I want to flow out <br />across the mother <br />of all waters, <br />I want to lose myself <br />on the black <br />and silky currents, <br />yawning, <br />gathering <br />the tall lilies <br />of sleep.<br /><br />Mary Oliver<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/white-night/
