Blackbird
Stripped, stark fingers of a February tree
Scratch the morning sky,
reach out and up;
eager to draw.
Caught midway in its branches,
as an abandoned black glove,
fingers fanned out and down,
held limp in stillness; a silhouette.
To this, a sudden rush of energy lends
full-bodied quiver of life;
vibrant third dimension against
a silent tree-etched sky.
The blackbird rises
on a trebled note of song,
to herald incoming spring.
9 comments:
aguja - well this is simply amazing. the image alone could carry the piece and then the words are so insightful and clear. thanks. steven
You have captured the essence of the blackbird with stunning imagery, both words and photography.
So beautiful. I love that you merged the two skies and the poem is wonderful. I love the image of the black glove and the bird.
Thank you for your kind and encouraging thoughts ... very special to me.
Beautiful words for an extraordinary photo.
Your poem is lovely. The photo and the words are so well matched, yet each has a life of its own.
By the way, what is PEN? You and another blogger have both mentioned it as a venue for a surrealism exhibition?
:-)
Happy weekend,
Gina
Spangle and Gina - my thanks for your comments and for your support of my blog.
PEN??? Are you sure that it was me??? It doesn't ring a bell in my mind.
Oh my! There are not enough words to describe your post. I am enchanted by this passage - To this, a sudden rush of energy lends
full-bodied quiver of life;
vibrant third dimension against
a silent tree-etched sky.
Olga, thank you so much. I appreciate your taking time to write this comment.
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