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sophiefreeman's review
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
5.0
starrybooker's review against another edition
5.0
There should be a word for the particular kind of sadness you feel when, a week after reading what you know will become your favourite poem, you find out the woman who wrote it just died.
I’ve never been a massive fan of traditional nature poetry (sorry Wordsworth), being more of a here’s-my-bleeding-heart-on-a-plate-poetry kind of girl. Mary Oliver, though, is the exception to my rule. I just, I don’t know how to describe her writing in a way that would do it justice. Her poetry isn’t complex but it’s beautiful, every description unique but utterly fitting. It’s the type of poetry that’s best appreciated while reading outdoors, but if you’re lazy like me then it can also be best read half leaning out your window, feet on the radiator, tea in hand.
I’ve never been a massive fan of traditional nature poetry (sorry Wordsworth), being more of a here’s-my-bleeding-heart-on-a-plate-poetry kind of girl. Mary Oliver, though, is the exception to my rule. I just, I don’t know how to describe her writing in a way that would do it justice. Her poetry isn’t complex but it’s beautiful, every description unique but utterly fitting. It’s the type of poetry that’s best appreciated while reading outdoors, but if you’re lazy like me then it can also be best read half leaning out your window, feet on the radiator, tea in hand.
neurodivengeance's review against another edition
4.0
Sometimes when I was about to read a little bit of this I didn't think I was in the right mental space for it but almost all of those times Mary coaxed me in and then I read much more than a little bit. I love how she writes, I love how her words are sparse and lush at the same time. Amazing writer. Her poetry makes me feel centred and happy and safe.
erikasku's review against another edition
“sometimes in late summer I won’t touch anything, not
the flowers, not the blackberries
brimming in the thickets; I won’t drink
from the pond; I won’t name the birds or the trees;
I won’t whisper my own name.
one morning the fox came down the hill, glittering and confident,
and didn’t see me - and I thought:
so this is the world.
I’m not in it.
it is beautiful.”
the flowers, not the blackberries
brimming in the thickets; I won’t drink
from the pond; I won’t name the birds or the trees;
I won’t whisper my own name.
one morning the fox came down the hill, glittering and confident,
and didn’t see me - and I thought:
so this is the world.
I’m not in it.
it is beautiful.”
priyabhakta's review against another edition
4.0
Gorgeous poems about the natural world and what it means to us. A book which leaves you feeling so optimistic.
morganrileyrowe's review against another edition
5.0
Mary Oliver is perfect, as always. Her poetry is some of the most earthly, joyful, intimate, and comforting work in the entire world.