Her poetry is magic: Walt Whitman, Emerson and Thoreau rolled into one for the 21st century. There’s some Adrienne Rich, some Robert Frost, some Maya Angelou. “I know why the caged bird sings.” But it’s Mary Oliver’s distinctive voice, cadence and perspective that moves me.
How many of us have weighted the years of groaning and weeping? How many years have I done it, how many nights spent panting, hating, grieving, oh, merciless, pitiless remembrances!