Moles

Under the leaves, under
the first loose
levels of earth
they're there -- quick
as beetles, blind
as bats, shy
as hares but seen
less than these --
traveling
among the pale girders
of appleroot,
rockshelf, nests
of insects and black
pastures of bulbs
peppery and packed full
of the sweetest food:
spring flowers.
Field after field
you can see the traceries
of their long
lonely walks, then
the rains blur
even this frail hint of them --
so excitable,
so plush,
so willing to continue
generation after generation
accomplishing nothing
but their brief physical lives
as they live and die,
pushing and shoving
with their stubborn muzzles against
the whole earth,
finding it
delicious.

by Mary Oliver

Comments (9)

The charge is old'? - As old as Cain - as fresh as yesterday; Old as the Ten Commandments - have ye talked those laws away? If words are words, or death is death, or powder sends the ball, You spoke the words that sped the shot - the curse be on you all. So good
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This is an absolutely amazing poem. Every line strummed the beat of meter like a song to me, yet the meat of it is so very intense. I would like to know more about this poem. It sounds as though a thug hired men to intimidate an Irish fellow, but the men killed him instead. And the instigator was cleared because his intention was not murder. And if I'm not mistaken he went on to join British Parliament. Shocking story and I wonder if it is true. Kipling is fastly becoming one of my favorite poets.
Tremendously passionate piece of poetry! ! Please read my collection! ! I am a young, aspiring poet. Feel free to rate and comment on my pieces. Thanks, Jack Growden
Kipling never went to prison for his words all in the name of poetry. Indeed we are not ruled by murderers but only by their friends. We hope for better future in God's Kingdom.
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