Red-Winged Blackbird

Red-winged blackbird,
wearing your mantilla,
the low branches of the young mulberry trees
are your church steps
and the breeze is bells for your wedding.

Dear blackbird,
how I long to watch you braid your hair 
into feathers for this glorious day.

Demure blackbird,
give your mantilla to a sister or an aunt.
Tonight they all will envy you
as your dainty shoes as small as rosary beads are shed--
 you'll go barefoot on the mulberry trees
swaying sweet for a warm moon
like a rung chime.
 

Comments

tonispencer said…
How I love your vision of a blackbird on her wedding day. Her shoes as tiny as rosary beads. That image alone blows my mind. Those tiny shoes on those tiny feet. The last lines, the chime ringing...this is your best poem so far. It is so far my favorite.
Sherry Blue Sky said…
Perfection. As Toni says, those tiny feet, in shoes small as rosary beads. Sigh.
Anonymous said…
you're overdressed unless walking barefoot ...

oh, this is an interesting poem - and like wow, tiny shoes, like rosary beads?
holy crap - what an image ...
but darkly so .... something so sinister and running tart ...
because of course, not all mulberry fruit is created equally - nor as sweetly ... but for the toxicity ...
yes, this is rich - and pleasantly agreeable on the palate, for the depth of images and metaphors winged and perched on these branches ....

pray tell, have you been ringing yourself around the mulberry bush in your yard? (if you have one? if not, then imagination knows no bounds 😲
said…
Are there really red-winged blackbirds? I had to look it up for myself. They look like shoulder pads! The poor thing; she's stuck in the '80s. Thank goodness she found a mate. :)

This is beautiful, like all the rest. I love picturing you as one of the aunts, watching your cherished young sweet niece approach her new life barefoot and beautiful. Even more, I'm hoping this says more about you and your imagination, watching a literal bird in your back yard.

My favorite images are of the branches being church steps, the hope for her hair braiding, and the shedding of dainty shoes. Then the way you so delicately touched on the honeymoon without a word about nudity or sex. Excellent writing/storytelling, Shay.
Mama Zen said…
This like gossamer. Delicate, beautiful. The second stanza grounds it in the sensual in the most perfect way. I really like this, Shay.
Sioux Roslawski said…
Yep, Mama Zen summed it up so well: "like gossamer."

I especially loved the last stanza, and the last two lines made me ache with envy.
Lynn said…
I love the imagery of the mantilla!

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