January 10: Crows in the pines
Kristen Lindquist
Sitting in a meeting late afternoon, I sensed a shadow passing by an office window near me that looks out onto a small wooded park. Subtly turning my head, I realized that the shadow was a crow flying into a tall pine. Followed by another crow, and another. A group of crows--a family? a small winter flock?--was heading for the shelter of the boughs to roost for the night.
I was reminded of a section of Wallace Stevens' poem "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird":
VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.
Shadow of a crow.
My mood shifts
with my attention.
I was reminded of a section of Wallace Stevens' poem "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird":
VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.
Shadow of a crow.
My mood shifts
with my attention.