Sunday, February 6, 2011

From "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" by Wallace Stevens

Among twenty snowy mountains
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.

. . .

Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro

. . .

It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing,
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat in the cedar-limbs.

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