tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758431.post2368665030791390996..comments2023-10-28T03:14:44.519-07:00Comments on Calhouns Can(n)ons: NewsstandGreghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04099049885765768069noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758431.post-67075977606033626632009-08-03T07:49:15.861-07:002009-08-03T07:49:15.861-07:00Wonderful. Thank you.Wonderful. Thank you.Churadogshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17701649330085709021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758431.post-9217168349385594292009-08-02T19:03:23.668-07:002009-08-02T19:03:23.668-07:00"Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird"..."Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" by Wallace Stevens<br /><br />I<br />Among twenty snowy mountains,<br />The only moving thing<br />Was the eye of the blackbird.<br /><br />II<br />I was of three minds,<br />Like a tree<br />In which there are three blackbirds.<br /><br />III<br />The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.<br />It was a small part of the pantomime.<br /><br />IV<br />A man and a woman<br />Are one.<br />A man and a woman and a blackbird<br />Are one.<br /><br />V<br />I do not know which to prefer,<br />The beauty of inflections<br />Or the beauty of innuendoes,<br />The blackbird whistling<br />Or just after.<br /><br />VI<br />Icicles filled the long window<br />With barbaric glass.<br />The shadow of the blackbird<br />Crossed it, to and fro.<br />The mood<br />Traced in the shadow<br />An indecipherable cause.<br /><br />VII<br />O thin men of Haddam,<br />Why do you imagine golden birds?<br />Do you not see how the blackbird<br />Walks around the feet<br />Of the women about you?<br /><br />VIII<br />I know noble accents<br />And lucid, inescapable rhythms;<br />But I know, too,<br />That the blackbird is involved<br />In what I know.<br /><br />IX<br />When the blackbird flew out of sight,<br />It marked the edge<br />Of one of many circles.<br /><br />X<br />At the sight of blackbirds<br />Flying in a green light,<br />Even the bawds of euphony<br />Would cry out sharply.<br /><br />XI<br />He rode over Connecticut<br />In a glass coach.<br />Once, a fear pierced him,<br />In that he mistook<br />The shadow of his equipage<br />For blackbirds.<br /><br />XII<br />The river is moving.<br />The blackbird must be flying.<br /><br />XIII<br />It was evening all afternoon.<br />It was snowing<br />And it was going to snow.<br />The blackbird sat<br />In the cedar-limbs.Bev. De Witt-Moylanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05892351727428430698noreply@blogger.com