THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A YELLOW-HEADED BLACKBIRD
Hundreds of birds fall dead in shocking footage, sparking wild conspiracy theories.
—Newsweek
I
The sky is falling.
II
Across a dozen hungry nations
it was a large part
of the conversation.
III
In the small northern town
of Chihuahua nothing
is falling
except a thousand
yellow-headed
blackbirds.
IV
I was of ten thousand minds
and twenty
thousand wings.
V
The yellow-headed blackbird
and the fall and the melting sun
swept across
the inside of the eye’s horizon.
VI
I do not know which is more
disturbing, the murmur or
the sudden slaughter, Moses
or the water parting.
VII
Said the falcon in Chihuahua
there was only one
yellow-headed blackbird.
VIII
Said the sweeper of the street
in Chihuahua
there were fifty thousand
yellow-headed blackbirds.
Said the merchant there was no
time to process three
thousand bolts of electricity
or the scraping sound
that came from the satellite.
IX
Said the yellow-headed blackbird
there is the question
of the sky,
the answer of the earth
and the fiery swoop
of following the leader.
Said another, there is also
the unforgiving pavement
and its unquiet people.
X
O peering little
hungry ghosts,
why do you steep
in your gardens filled
with grievances?
Do you not see
you are the yellow-headed
blackbird,
the water
that is parting,
the starving
conversation?
XI
I cannot stop thinking about shadows
as the yellow-headed blackbird
stammers and pitches and wings
out of sight. The falcon
has filled his belly.
We watch from our gardens,
remaining piqued and hungry.
XII
The winter is dying.
The spring must be dreaming
of yellow-headed blackbirds.
XIII
It was auburn all afternoon
and all the trees were purple.
The words had turned to scarlet
and the story crept under the bed.
The yellow-headed blackbird,
wet-feathered and sky-laden,
lay curled inside her egg.
—from Poets Respond
February 20, 2022
__________
Wendy Videlock: “I apologize. I could not resist.” (web)
