Current version(thanks, Bernie)
Chestnut-backed Chickadees
They chase each other like kids
on a playground,
their chip-chip
chip
dripping from branches
where they momentarily rest,
quickly threading the crepe myrtle
and heavenly bamboo.
I am blessed—
this has never happened:
several attach their tiny feet
to my sweatshirt.
Suddenly three more
swoop down
fluttering onto my shoulders,
clinging to my woolly
chest,
the joy of the moment
lingering long
afterward...
Even now seeing
a black capped little fellow
nodding in the grass
I stop and watch,
till he flies off
again
previous version:
Chestnut-backed Chickadees
They chase each other like kids
on a playground,
their chip-
chip-chip-
chip
dripping from branches
where they momentarily rest,
quickly darting away
to a eucalyptus.
I am blessed—
this has never happened:
several fly straight
at me,
attaching their tiny feet
to my sweatshirt,
hanging on.
Others cling
to my trouser legs
like burrs
as I stand still,
my wingspan of arms spread.
Suddenly three more
swoop down
fluttering onto my shoulders,
clinging to my woolly
chest,
the joy of the moment
lingering long
afterward...
Even now seeing
a black capped little fellow
nodding in the grass
I stop and watch,
till he flies off
again
Chestnut-backed Chickadees
-
- Posts: 2154
- Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57
Re: Chestnut-backed Chickadees
Hi Bob,
upon a 1st read-thru -
charming à la William Wordsworth for one
stanza not needed b/c stronger by inference:
"acknowledging
a closeness we once had"
Even now seeing
a black capped little fellow
nodding in the grass
I stop and watch,
till he flies off
again
^^ that "again" is industrious to the poem
Michael (MV)
Re: Chestnut-backed Chickadees
Like the ease with which you write.
Casual and flowing.
A little trimming would make it great.
Casual and flowing.
A little trimming would make it great.
meenas17
-
- Posts: 2688
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: Chestnut-backed Chickadees
Thanks, Michael, Meena -- I will cut the acknowledging lines....
Re: Chestnut-backed Chickadees
Bob...
do i feel a need for a little roughness?
the opening---avoiding that "like" word.
They chase each other like kids
on a playground,
Chasing friendly and bravely at whir.
this is enough chip for me:
chip-chip-
chip
dripping from branches
where they momentarily rest,
banging branches, they rest
and seem to look out to me.
i favor injecting the poet....what do you think?
i favor going quickly to the blessed line...
quickly darting away
to a eucalyptus.
"eucalyptus" rather bland, featureless.....
quickly threading the Roosevelt Pines
and me,
I am blessed—
this has never happened:
me, i cut the next two lines.
several fly straight
at me,
attaching their tiny feet
to my sweatshirt,
Clutching my sweatshirt
like drunken women in a bar...
well, that's a Graham Greene image...i put it here to break the emerging wordsworth fantasy...
me, i cut the next six lines:
hanging on.
Others cling
to my trouser legs
like burrs
as I stand still,
my wingspan of arms spread.
Suddenly three more
swoop down
might experiment and cut the word "down"
fluttering onto my shoulders,
clinging to my woolly
might cut to this:
flutter over my shoulders,
cling to my woolly.
what to do at the close?
chest,
the joy of the moment
lingering long
afterward...
Even now seeing
a black capped little fellow
nodding in the grass
I stop and watch,
till he flies off
again
i want speed and grace, know what i mean?
i rise a few feet open and effortless,
my body turned to light.
i like your poem, plenty. just wanted to give everything i had.
bernie
Lying In A Hammock At William Duffy's Farm In Pine Island, Minnesota -
Poem by James Arlington Wright
Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,
Asleep on the black trunk,
blowing like a leaf in green shadow.
Down the ravine behind the empty house,
The cowbells follow one another
Into the distances of the afternoon.
To my right,
In a field of sunlight between two pines,
The droppings of last year's horses
Blaze up into golden stones.
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.
A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
I have wasted my life.
Lying In A Hammock At William Duffy's Farm In Pine Island, Minnesota
James Arlington Wright
Poems by James Arlington Wright
A Blessing -
Poem by James Arlington Wright
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more, they begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.
James Arlington Wright
do i feel a need for a little roughness?
the opening---avoiding that "like" word.
They chase each other like kids
on a playground,
Chasing friendly and bravely at whir.
this is enough chip for me:
chip-chip-
chip
dripping from branches
where they momentarily rest,
banging branches, they rest
and seem to look out to me.
i favor injecting the poet....what do you think?
i favor going quickly to the blessed line...
quickly darting away
to a eucalyptus.
"eucalyptus" rather bland, featureless.....
quickly threading the Roosevelt Pines
and me,
I am blessed—
this has never happened:
me, i cut the next two lines.
several fly straight
at me,
attaching their tiny feet
to my sweatshirt,
Clutching my sweatshirt
like drunken women in a bar...
well, that's a Graham Greene image...i put it here to break the emerging wordsworth fantasy...
me, i cut the next six lines:
hanging on.
Others cling
to my trouser legs
like burrs
as I stand still,
my wingspan of arms spread.
Suddenly three more
swoop down
might experiment and cut the word "down"
fluttering onto my shoulders,
clinging to my woolly
might cut to this:
flutter over my shoulders,
cling to my woolly.
what to do at the close?
chest,
the joy of the moment
lingering long
afterward...
Even now seeing
a black capped little fellow
nodding in the grass
I stop and watch,
till he flies off
again
i want speed and grace, know what i mean?
i rise a few feet open and effortless,
my body turned to light.
i like your poem, plenty. just wanted to give everything i had.
bernie
Lying In A Hammock At William Duffy's Farm In Pine Island, Minnesota -
Poem by James Arlington Wright
Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,
Asleep on the black trunk,
blowing like a leaf in green shadow.
Down the ravine behind the empty house,
The cowbells follow one another
Into the distances of the afternoon.
To my right,
In a field of sunlight between two pines,
The droppings of last year's horses
Blaze up into golden stones.
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.
A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
I have wasted my life.
Lying In A Hammock At William Duffy's Farm In Pine Island, Minnesota
James Arlington Wright
Poems by James Arlington Wright
A Blessing -
Poem by James Arlington Wright
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more, they begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.
James Arlington Wright
-
- Posts: 2688
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: Chestnut-backed Chickadees
Thanks, Bernie! You have given me a lot of possibilities...I'll let them marinate for a bit, and then try to take advantage of what you have offered. Thx for all the help! Bob