Garden Poetry

In fall it is mushrooms

gathered from dampness

under the pines:

in spring I have known

the taste of the lamb

full of milk and spring grass;

today it is beans green and yellow

and lettuce and basil from my friends' garden —

how calmly, as though it were an ordinary thing,

we eat the blessed earth.

   ---Mary Oliver

You can read more about this Pulitzer Prize-winning poet HERE.