Mary Oliver

“Oxygen” by Mary Oliver is a love poem about her lover’s breathing problem and the love they share. The poem carries a gentle and somber tone as it journeys through the stanzas. Oliver makes good use of metaphors and images to convey her emotions so that the reader can experience her feelings.

The opening image I get while reading this poem is of an evening scene in a room lit by only the flames of firewood sitting in the fireplace. The room is warmed by, “…the fire, stirring with a/ stick of iron, letting the logs/ lie more loosely.” (6-8). The warmth sets the scene of this love poem. Images are not only felt, but also heard. Sounds come from the, “…noisy machine/ stands in our house working away in its lung-like voice.” (3-5).

The logs were stacked up into a tight bundle, just as the lungs of her partner were constricted and tight. When she loosened the logs, “…stirring with a/ stick of iron, letting the logs/ lie more loosely.” (6-8) they were able to take in the air more easily. The same occurred when the, “noisy machine/ stands in our house working away in its/ lung-like voice.” (3-5) was assisting her partner breath air with ease. The fire takes in a good supply of oxygen, just as the lungs do, “…fire rises/ and offers a dozen, singing, deep-red/ roses of flame.” (19-21) This metaphor is of the lungs taking a deep breath of the pure oxygen that the machine supplies. As the oxygen rushes into the lungs, they expand allowing the oxygen to travel through every single bronchiole down to the deep sacs of the alveoli. Just as a dozen roses are given as a gift, oxygen is also a gift. A gift of life. “Then it settles/ to quietude, or maybe gratitude…” (21-22) Once the logs are loosened and have had a good supply of oxygen, the fire that rose settles into a low even flame. This too, happens when all the branches and sacs of the lungs are filled with the pure oxygen they were longing for; they become at ease. Breathing is not labored or difficult anymore and the chest is no longer tight from the struggle of taking in air. “….as it feeds/ as we all do, as we must, upon the invisible gift;/ our purest, sweet necessity: the air.”

On the first pass I understood that it was about illness and love, but did not notice how intense they were until after reading it again. What seemed like a pretty easy poem to understand became a love letter to decipher. Oliver wrote this poem for her love while he or she was having breathing treatments. She is speaking to a love who is not revealed. No one replies to her and she does not tell us if her love is a man or woman. We are witnesses to her joy and pain. She is relieved that her partner is still breathing so that they can be together another day, but afraid of the day her partner is consumed by the illness. It is apparent that they have been together for a long time. She reveals that she does not know how to separate herself from the other person. “It is/ your life, which is so close/ to my ow that I would not know/ where to drop the knife of/ separation.” (13-17) This is true for many relationships that have a strong bond which has grown over the years. Two individuals become one when they come together and spend their days and nights together. The thought of being without the other is like losing a piece of themselves. Oliver also poignantly explains that their separation would not be one that either party is prepared for. They would be separated into individuals, like a clean cut of a knife. But for now she is taking in the time she is able to spend with