In Desolation

[Bar22do]

Lone, voiceless bird,
I’m lurching along;
without my wing
I won’t soar. In tatters,
I search.

New moon bears the old
on a paddled sky;
I huddle in a bark shred,
the left wing, swelling,
covers my bill.

Within hail,
a poplar’s scrawny arms
against dun air call, call,
weaken, call again
and then still.

[blank|verse]

This is a heartfelt piece, Bar, and knowing the poet herself hurt her 'wing' recently, I can't help but read a possible autobiographical element to this.

I thought this image was intriguing:

New moon bears the old
on a paddled sky;
As I read it, this is the moon's reflection of water; 'a paddled sky' as a metonym for 'water' is brilliant. Overall, perhaps the tone veers a bit too close to self-pity, but this is a sorrowful little poem, Bar.

[MystyrMystyry]

Very interesting Bar22do - how did you hurt your wing?

That aside, a nice sentiment about being suddenly held back.

I like the extended rhyme from stanza two to three too :)

[Bar22do]

Actually, it's a story (transposed into a region of desolation) of a wounded pigeon I helped cross the street between cars by La Gare de l'Est in Paris (I had stopped the traffic!) a few months ago and whose total helplessness made an impression on me.
Now, B/V, you revealed to me that I must have identified myself with the pigeon and I probably did...! though while writing, the pigeon symbolized for me cruel, irrevocable fate.
I'm happy you appreciated my timid metonym, but I was hoping that your mind's eyes would SEE (and approve of!) how the new moon carries/pushes/drives.. the old --- a thin shining crescent on the sky and the mat, veiled remaining part of the lunar disc in its hollow.
I felt the poem had a resigned tone, I'm sorry it sounds self-pitied to you.

MystryMystry, I'm glad you thought the poem was worth a close reading. As for my injury, nothing that serious, though it'll take some time before I can use my left arm again (I'm left handed...). I'm training my lazy, right side of the body to function for both.

I thank you both for your comments and appreciation.

Best regards from -
Bar

[evansan7]

A very touching piece, bar. The image of the bird calling and slowly weakening and at last falling into stillness was haunting and perfectly written. Reading it again just deepened my appreciation. Sorry to hear about your accident and hope you feel better.

[Haunted]

Bar, this is so delicate and fragile, and the repetitions in the last stanza is just heartbreaking. I'm glad that you are in better shape with your arm and I wish you a fast recovery.

[the facade]

I'm always in awe of your rhythm Bar.
So delicate and fragile, yet so poignant.
Beautiful.

[Bar22do]

Thank you evansan, the bird can't really call at this stage, poplar's branches do, but it isn't important. I'm glad my poem has touched you.

Haunted and The Facade, thanks for reading and appreciating this little poem and for your good wishes!

Bar

[AuntShecky]

Far be it from the likes of me, dear Bar, to be so presumptuous to weigh in on this one. (Sometimes I think yours truly should be the one taking advice from the LitNutters other than the other way around.)

This piece is very, very condensed, but in its imagining of the thoughts of a a wounded bird--a metaphor for human isolation-- it works very well, pleasing to the eye as well as to the ear.

[Buh4Bee]

You have "it" Bar. Always a good read, and I liked the explanation you gave as well for the inspiration of the poem. Hope your wing is better.

[Jack of Hearts]

Sometimes they come along and render you breathless- and usually they come from you.






J

[Bar22do]

Thanks so much Auntie, Buh4Bee and Jack!
Auntie, where have you been! I haven't heard from you for so long! Hope you're managing... It's a joy to know you're back! And even your kind, diplomatic, if hesitant, comment is a reward for me! It's always good to receive your guidance, you're a mine of knowledge! Be well!
B4B and Jack, your support is precious and Jack, I'm touched by your placing this dark poem on the Favourite thread. Thank you, but - do come back, please.

Best to you, Bar