Blackpoll warbler
By onemorething
- 1285 reads
Where do you go
without a map -
a blackpoll warbler leaves
the spruce of a snow forest,
quiets his own song of tsi tsi,
and fasts a sleepless south
of days to pass the North Atlantic.
1700 miles of the blank canvas
of an ocean; their name for it -
a bird-like word for death,
a vastness
upon which
you
must
not
stop.
It is Autumn then,
they
bend
the
seasons,
beneath them shadows
navigate the water.
I sense the unceasing motion
that tugs below the ribs,
know that unknowing,
when
these are the landmarks
of suffering and
this is the geography of pain.
Image is from here: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:(Manuscript_painting_of_Heezen-Tharp_World_ocean_floor_map_by_Berann).jpg
Twitter: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Black-poll_Warbler_NGM-v31-p313-B.jpg
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Comments
A very real sense of movement
A very real sense of movement in this
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I like the structure of this
I like the structure of this poem Rachel, giving shape and motion as the poem progresses.
Jenny.
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Never thought about how
Never thought about how difficult that migration would be for birds, now I think I'll never forget. Sharp writing, no superfluous words, every line flows into the next and the journey is with awareness. Thank you for posting this for I love when writing gives me something for the soul.
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As Penny says, your
As Penny says, your description of migration is so powerful! This is amazing:
"1700 miles of the blank canvas
of an ocean; their name for it -
a bird-like word for death,
a vastness
upon which
you
must
not
stop."
real sense of desperation, jeopardy
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I don't know that they can
I don't know that they can think thoughts bad enough to name us
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