Blackbird Summer

Out on the pavement hand
in hand safe, Dad’s dry, course
a working man, Gently he
pulls me up in the lift
of an arm, and holds up
a finger pausing lips
We smile a breathless conspiracy

Almost invisible on
the brash torn road a young
blackbird: beak shining a
perfect yellow. Polished
inky feathers. Eyes bright
skipping the skinny oil puddles

The performer stops and
eagerly adjusts his coat

Fresh from a dust toilet
he shoots up flickering
high in the hot blue sky.
Celebrating with harsh
and scolding notes, wild he
circles our beached limbs
desperate for applause.
Heckling the curtain calls
he departs the pantomime


Blogger finnegan said...

Sounds just like your everyday blogger to me, hehe.

11:00 PM  
Blogger . : A : . said...

"We smile a breathless conspiracy"

This is a lovely moment in this poem.

12:46 AM  
Blogger EATING POETRY said...

I love the format of this poem.

I know that feeling when the poem or story runs away with itself... but I'd say, that's one of the best feelings in the world.


8:29 PM  
Blogger Paperslut said...

"Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise"


9:22 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Hi Finn without doubt

Thanks A

Eating P and Wonder W a stolen moment from my childhood, stll very vivid

7:12 PM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

a poem full of fine lines but i love this one . . .
'wild he
circles our beached limbs'

it feels that way with birds doesn't it. sort of like we are stuck here and they have all the sky to touch.

3:31 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Surely CJ, I always think the birds have the last laugh. First they teach us to throw food at them then they poo on our heads, birds definately have a sense of humor

5:00 PM  
Blogger Free Spirit said...

It's a very nice poem. I don't know why, but it made me feel good. I'm not sure if that's how you'd like your reader to feel, it's just how I felt. Am I making any sense? :D

5:01 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Free Spirit, I love that my poem made you happy, thank-you

I would just like to say to the person who left the rude comment, that I don't mind criticism, however could they bear in mind that children read my blog and moderate their language and at least offer something constructive

7:17 PM  
Blogger Russell Ragsdale said...

There is never less than a
breathless and excited moment
each time I step through the
looking glass of one
of your poems and enter
the magic and mystery
of the beautiful world
you have seen

4:39 AM  
Blogger elkenarra said...

once again, magic is to share moments like this.

8:53 AM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Thank-you Russel, a poem is not a poem unless some one else has enjoyed it

Elkenarra, great to hear from you, you write so well and in a second language which always I find amazing

7:38 PM  
Blogger Patry Francis said...

I found myself identifying too much with the shamelessly preening blackbird, and was rather happy when the hot blue sky swallowed him up.

Wonderful poem, Sue. A lot here.

8:25 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Patry I see you now in your coal black feathers, who hasn't wanted to fly? Thank-you

8:56 PM  

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