I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
Wallace Stevens gives us Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird and in the comment-space of this post, Shweta says, 'Everybody who ever sees a blackbird should give us a new way.'
So, have you ever seen a blackbird?
3 comments:
hSince Blackbirds are not a part of my neighbourhood, I prefer to recall actual sightings and ruminate those memories. The first was a dark flash on a sunlit branch in Anantgiri - made brilliant by a flaming orange beak and eye-ring - if black can be made so - there a minute, gone the next. But it burned an immortal image on my soul. I held the delight of recognition, cerebral savoury, before it became a burden that had to be blurted to the quizzical others around me, who had been lucky to see the dark smudge and drown in its mystery.
There are several whole poems in that one, Aasheesh.
First time I saw a blackbird, 'twas the female of the species,
identifying it, however wasn't very easies.
bad attempt a rhyme.
will do better next time.
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