Thepondsby Mary Oliver (from “House of Lights”)Every yearthe liliesare so perfectI can hardly believetheir lapped light crowdingthe black,mid-summer ponds.Nobody could count all of them --the muskrats swimmingamong the pads and the grassescan reach outtheir muscular arms and touchonly so many, they are thatrife and wild.But what in this worldis perfect?I bend closer and[…]