My small brother

Today a wigeon in the snow!

AFTER READING LUCRETIUS, I GO TO THE POND

The slippery green frog

that went to his death

in the heron's pink throat

was my small brother,

and the heron

with the white plumes

like a crown on his head

who is washing now his great sword-beak

in the shining pond

is my tall thin brother

My heart dresses in black

and dances.

Mary Oliver

Blue Horses, Penguin, 2014, Kindle location 74

Of course I am thinking about brothers, since two of mine are visiting. We watched a few hours of just-digitized 8mm films of our 1935-1945 childhoods. R just flew back to Colombia, where he lives, D will be here another day. I like this poem very much and agree with everything (and find it simply, but clearly expressed) except the last line, which I think is too easy. I remember that one of my haiku gurus used to say that some poems were "common thought haiku" meaning that the thought or the phrasing sounded as if you had already heard them several times before, perhaps in slightly other guises. A dancing resolution is too simple a resolution to such a major issue.