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The Blackbird tide

Time interred by the slow procession of clocks
Each clack tick of black on white
Facing out, is a beating wing,
Of time attempting to flee

I know that you think like me,
Our minds are full of blackbirds,
Wind gusts, lost bees, blown
Off course by the night tides
Of the cold particle sea.

The thick of night,
The weight of night,
It enfolds darkened arms around,
All who sleep and dream inside
Without a sound, exposed

I belong to night, I know you do
It possesses me – it’s majesty
Its great gift, is the wind
From the wing of flown fowl,
And the quiet infatuation
Into the clinging mind

If I could be a dance then,
Dance of night I’d be,
Curtsy at the moon,
Then linger momentarily
Before waltzing all the dawn way down
And ending at the wailing sea

A dream? Awake, if by some
Mistake of fusion, this is here
Where I’ll always be, then you?
Perhaps our time holds still in night
And our dance won’t end
And the song won’t stop
And wind will long

And hold you near the pane
Rattling song, while I stand here.
Waiting for the blackbird to come,
shiver, then by long last shadow, disappear.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Just a little sketch of the Old house, the valley where I now reside. Written on a phone from the back yard, so just an observation, and a passing reference to dream. hope you enjoy. Cheers. Small update, with a clock ticking wing, on a white face (thinking of a certain cliff)
Editing stage: 


wish i could write great stuff on the phone. Living in Old house, Tasmania, in a garden...sounds like you found your spot!

The stanza that drew me in was:

I know that you think like me,
And minds are full of blackbirds,
Wind gusts, lost bees, blown
Off course by the night tides
Of the cold particle sea.

Lately in a workshop I go to i have seen often some good commentaries on poems to omit the first, second or third stanzas. We very often have a need to prelude the poem, set the poem up, rather than attack it. In this case it is a consideration to omit the first two stanzas.
From there the poem gets better and better. First-rate magic. Welcome back!

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

Or wings? Just a bit of trimming required..;) I'll re-read and reign it in a bit. Hope it's all going well over there, sorry for short reply, I'm in the middle of nowhere again. Things we take for granted, like - and internet connection!



Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

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