A review by toebean5
House of Light by Mary Oliver

3.0

This collection felt a little darker than the others I've been reading. It's not a bad thing- just some of the meditations felt a little more on the topic of death than the others. There's a really heart-breaking poem called "Singapore," where she comes across a woman cleaning out ashtrays in a toilet, and this part from the poem "White Owl Flies Into and Out of the Field" really got to me:

maybe death
isn't darkness, after all,
but so much light
wrapping itself around --
as soft as feathers--
that we are instantly weary
of looking, and looking, and shut our eyes,
not without amazement,
and let ourselves be carried,
as through the translucence of mica,
to the river
that is without the least dapple or shadow-
that is nothing but light-- scalding, aortal light--
in which we are washed and washed
out of our bones.