Lichen
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... the blue jays carp
and whistle all day
in the branches,
without the push of the wind.
But to tell the truth
after a while
I’m pale with longing
for their thick bodies ruckled
with lichen
and you can’t keep me from the woods,
from the tonnage of their shoulders,
and their shining green hair.
—Mary Oliver
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Poem: For the Lobaria, Usnea, Witches Hair, Map Lichen, Beard Lichen, Ground Lichen, Shield Lichen
Poem: Lichen Glows in the Moonlight
Poem: Springtime in the Rockies, Lichen
Poem: My Hair Burned Like Berenice
Poem: Nouns That Have a Religious Quality
Poem: this beginning may have always meant this end
Poem: Hinged Double Sonnet for the Luna Moths
Poem: The Laden Henceforth Pending
Poem: The World Below the Brine
Poem: Lullaby for the Second Millennium