The blurb on the front cover
of one of her collections
reads, “far and away,
this country’s best-selling poet.”
And I think, no.
That is not an accolade for a poet.
That is not the accolade for her.
Keep your consumerism far from our girl.
She spoke of nature, and life, and the Divine.
She spoke to us all.

I listen to her words still,
I listen to her words again.

I, too, want to put into words
feelings that swell, then rush away
as I reach for them,
as I stand in my garden
and the hummingbird comes
to demand that I refill the sugar water.
A warning that perhaps next time,
they will not return
due to this slight of a half-filled feeder.

I imagine a younger version of a poet
walking around her kitchen, on a lazy day,
reading my poems aloud,
like prayers to the Almighty,
And sighing out in relief – Amen.

Amen, Mary, amen.