Blackpoll warbler

Cherry

By onemorething

Wed, 05 May 2021
  • 1070 reads
9 comments
 

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

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

A very real sense of movement in this

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Thanks, just playing around really, but I liked it. :)

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

I like the structure of this poem Rachel, giving shape and motion as the poem progresses.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Thanks for reading it, Jenny, glad you liked it. :)

 

Submitted by Penny4athought on

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.smiley

Penny4athought

Submitted by onemorething on

Thanks Penny, that's really kind. All migrations are perilous, but yes, this little bird has an especially difficult ocean crossing. Am happy you enjoyed it. :)

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

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

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Thanks Di, I think I've been wondering a lot lately what the birds' names for things might be, including us! Glad you liked it. :)

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

I don't know that they can think thoughts bad enough to name us