Mary Oliver: I looked up

 This short poem once again highlight the majesty and beauty of a bird. It seem like a common motif in Oliver's work as she fascinates on the colors and power of the birds. In this poem, she notices a partocular one while looking through the trees. She describes him as, :a ruffle of fire trailing over the shoulders and down the back- color of copper, iron, bronze- lighting up the dark branches of the pine." She practically glorifies the birds for its mere presence. One part that confused me and seemed a bit out of place was her statement, "what misery to be afraid of death. What wretchedness, to believe only in what can be proven." She makes this remark then goes back to the scene of the branches. It makes me think that the bird itself made her reflect on its freedom from logic or worry as it flies through the branches. It simply has to exist in instinct and not of the standards of man. Once the bird notices her, it scarcely thinks twice about it before flying off, "wreathed in fire." To the bird she is not of concern at all. She is almost seen as lowly compared to it with its flame of beauty. Within out another word it is gone.