Nine New Ways of
Looking at a Blackbird

XIV                                                                                 XIX
It was snowing                                                            At the sight of blackbirds
When the blackbird flew out of sight                      Why do you imagine golden birds?
Among twenty snowy mountains.
XX
XV                                                                                  Once, a fear pierced him:
I was of three minds                                                   Traced in the shadow
In which there are three blackbirds                         Of one of many circles
And lucid, inescapable rhythms . . .                         Was the eye of the blackbird.
The beauty of inflections.
XXI
XVI                                                                                 The river is moving
The blackbird whirled in the autumn                       For blackbirds —
winds.                                                                     An indecipherable cause.
But I know, too,
The blackbird sat                                                        XXII
In the cedar limbs.                                                      It was evening all afternoon.
Icicles filled the long window
XVII                                                                                And it was going to snow.
A man and a woman.                                                 The blackbird must be flying.
A man and a woman and a blackbird.

XVIII
I do not know which to prefer,
The shadow of the blackbird
Or the beauty of innuendoes.

Bill Waters, 2015

Remixed work:
Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, by Wallace Stevens