Nocturne (Blue Grosbeak)

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Nocturne (Blue Grosbeak)

Why tremble
when nothing
arrives to be seen?

The architecture
of the day
comes and goes

in the same
heartbeat,
a disturbance

more felt than heard.
But listen.
The grosbeak sings

his presence
and departs,
leaving behind

the echo
of a motion
blending with night.

The air is cool.
A leaf utters
its own message

and falls
unnoticed.
Nothing awaits it.

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60 thoughts on “Nocturne (Blue Grosbeak)”

  6. Nice words here. A poem that seems elusive in meaning, but to me, it reminds me of the experiences I have with nature. The wonderful thing that happens with me (sometimes) when I observe nature is that I am overcome by its transience, its beauty, and its indifference to me.

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  7. I like your work so much. It stands out like a good deed in a naughty world in all the dreadful poetry on the net. Came across this recently – do you like it?
    “Poetry presents the thing in order to convey the feeling. It should be precise about the thing and reticent about the feeling.”
    Sun Dynasty poet Wei T’ai

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  11. And I wonder how does it sounds like when the echo of its voice trailing off between the concrete jungle? Here in our area, I noticed one magpie who seems to fly happily at this one small field of grass between the two blocks of apartments of 20 families. I seem to noticed how odd to see such a beautiful creature living between the concrete buildings and seem so alone, and yet it was so happy. It sounds odd to hear it there when it is suppose to be in the woods. 🙂

    Beautifully written, as always!

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  15. I loved this, it was beautiful.. It conjures up one of those quiet late afternoons when small things like a falling leaf or a snatch of birdsong can take center stage and leave an enduring memory.

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  16. Bob! You knocked another one out of the park! The magic of this poem is, I believe, that when one reads it, he/she comes away with the conviction that there is not another means to float this lovely ship except by those exact words in that exact order. you know I’m always gonna be a believer, even if you should start writing garbage…NOT likely!

    Ron

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  23. The sound of the grosbeak – it is indeed a lovely sound and as hard to capture as the scent of honeysuckle; so delicate but yet, such an impression on the senses. This is just lovely. And I thank you for following my blog. I hope you will visit often and always feel welcomed.

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  27. What I really like about this poem is the fact it reminds me of my experiences living near an inlet. I would see birds fly off in the sunset, moving away on these wide wings, as they call the moon to rise. I like that you brought me back to the past like that.

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