“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label golden blades. Show all posts
Showing posts with label golden blades. Show all posts
Monday, November 27, 2017
With the worms
Shaking off his jacket
spotted with purple dots of dew,
he unfurls his wings
and dashes off
to a new perch
higher up.
In the insistent rising sun
my head and shoulders form
an opposition,
casting shadows on
soft golden blades
rooted underfoot.
Stirring begins from the ground
where settled matters to-day
such as History and alternative pathways,
are made with each step one leg takes
at a time
to make movement or progression
of orbit
in order
to get there
only to see the selfsame shrinking
without feathers, but by a hair
and blunted nose not pointed beak.
This is sharp steel light
severing the warm body
from the sound mind.
A murmuration demonstrates
the reason
for gathering
our resources
but taking them
lightly.
Painting by Léon Bazille Perrault, 'The Bird Charmer' 1873 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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