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A Blackbird Sings.
A blackbird sings.....
I see apple blossom, layered
along branches.
Embryo stems of eager green
twisting, growing.
Daylight drawn ever longer
towards the dusk
feeling the hours drifting on,
living on. Drawing out
the last delicious
tastes of the day.
Memories lost to youth
rise, unrecognised
for what they are,
yet stir a quickening
of the heart.
All captured then released
in notes
from the blackbird's song.
A Magical Memory
arises from a magical source:
" But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know."
- Wallace Stevens
Thank you Alison :-) Sue.
Thank you Alison :-) Sue.