I
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.
II
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.
III
It was a small part of the pantomime.
IV
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.
V
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
VI
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.
VII
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?
VIII
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.
IX
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.
X
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.
XI
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.
XII
The blackbird must be flying.
XIII
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.