just running forward

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Percy (nine)
By Mary Oliver

Your friend is coming I say
To Percy, and name a name

And he runs to the door, his
Wide mouth in its laugh-shape,

And waves, since he has one, his tail.
Emerson, I am trying to live,

As you said we must, the examined life.
But there are days I wish

There was less in my head to examine,
Not to speak of the busy heart. How

Would it be to be Percy, I wonder, not
Thinking, not weighing anything, just running forward.

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