Poem
A.E. Stallings
BLACKBIRD ETUDE
BLACKBIRD ETUDE
BLACKBIRD ETUDE
The blackbird sings atthe frontier of his music.
The branch where he sat
marks the brink of doubt,
is the outpost of his realm,
edge from which to rout
encroachers with trills
and melismatic runs sur–
passing earthbound skills.
It sounds like ardor,
it sounds like joy. We are glad
here at the border
where he signs the air
with his invisible staves,
“Trespassers beware”—
Song as survival—
a kind of pure music which
we cannot rival.
© 2009, A.E. Stallings
From: Poetry, Vol. 195, No. 1, October
Publisher: Poetry, Chicago
From: Poetry, Vol. 195, No. 1, October
Publisher: Poetry, Chicago
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BLACKBIRD ETUDE
The blackbird sings atthe frontier of his music.
The branch where he sat
marks the brink of doubt,
is the outpost of his realm,
edge from which to rout
encroachers with trills
and melismatic runs sur–
passing earthbound skills.
It sounds like ardor,
it sounds like joy. We are glad
here at the border
where he signs the air
with his invisible staves,
“Trespassers beware”—
Song as survival—
a kind of pure music which
we cannot rival.
From: Poetry, Vol. 195, No. 1, October
BLACKBIRD ETUDE
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