for the red-winged blackbirds

[joel]

You smolder red—glow purest red—you, burning charcoal,
you tuck yourself within the thinnest sheets of heat—
you lay yourself and pay yourself attention, golden
and great, and neverminding fate’s a grayish ash.

Your shoulder’s red, like blood it’s red, like red-winged blackbirds
with beaks, like rigid scissors, quick to cut apart
the stillness of tranquility when hearths are threatened—
and, seemingly, you’re like their hiding in a marsh.

Like soldiers red, like human bodies wrapped in lifeblood,
like dimly burning wicks whose wax is soon to kiss
like Judas kissed—your rose knows threats: extinguished
as if a field of blackbirds dead on New Year’s Day—

a bolder red than spilled from sacrificial pigeons;
a red, a tongue of flame at Pentecost, are you
and not the smoothly condescending dove of Jordan,
but red-winged for a world that needs a stronger flight.

[dadio]

Ist class poem.

a tongue of flame at Pentecost, are you
and not the smoothly condescending dove of Jordan,
but red-winged for a world that needs a stronger flight.
( Love these lines,)

[Doreen Peri]

ike dimly burning wicks whose wax is soon to kiss
like Judas kissed—your rose knows threats: extinguished

wonderful use of assonance, phrasing, and language... really nice

[Sue Littleton]

Joel, you know I like your poetry, and as far as I am concerned, with this poem you have surpassed yourself. The images are just incredible -- rich, strong, with meanings within meanings. You are saying so much and using such beautiful and subtle metaphors. It is a poem to read over and over. Sue♥♥♥