Hi grasshopper,
A fine, not a word wasted, poem here! (But I too feel cautious about the
word "infinitely" - it sounds OK! - sort of hints at the bobbing and
perpetual unsettledness of a bird doing what its doing - but the word seems
to draw lots of things with it that distract...)
And, like Sally, I found myself confused when I was reading it through for
the first time. But I kept on reading it and then realised, "Doh!, It's the
twitcher and his mum I'm reading about now!" Somehow I kept sort of losing
sight of him in the poem.
I guess it's the pronouns that may be creating the problems - you've got
four (ahem, sort of) persons in the poem: twitcher & mother, and baby bird
and mother - and Four is a big number to handle, particularly when the
relationships between two pairs is/isn't the same. Radio & TV drama, for
instance, rarely presents a scene with more than three active people. But I
think the poem almost follows that formula (because there's only 3
characters present - the twitcher's mum isn't visible!).
I'm only considering this (it might not work!) but if the phrases about his
mother were indented, or italicised, or whatever, then that might help...
Or, if the title were more striking... that we can't forget it, that it
prepares the reader to see where they are a tad more forcefully... That
might help, too. (With it being in all in small case maybe doesn't help...
and a full stop after its words isn't too usual for a title.) I find the
relationship between the title and the poem intruiging, and often
mystifying! I wish I had a way of talking about how I know I've got a good
one (and I wish I knew how to look to find a good one!). The gap, the pause,
between the title and the poem can be where all kinds of things can happen.
But, I'm changing the subject here...
Bob


>From: grasshopper <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: New sub: Thoughts from the hide
>Date: Fri, 13 Jun 2003 17:44:17 +0100
>
>Thoughts from the hide.
>
>He watches a blue-tit feeding
>its young, the fledgling a blur
>and gape and gulp of demand,
>the adult bird infinitely flustered.
>If a bird can frown, it frowns,
>and seeps invisible sweat.
>The tongue knows only four tastes,
>salt , like re-routed tears,
>acid, a dry suck of lemon,
>bitter, the exudate of brilliant beetles,
>and sweet like a strawberry shake
>or his mother's milk
>which he does not remember
>but for which he feels suddenly grateful.
>
>The blue-tit flies off to seek another bug,
>another fat curl of caterpillar,
>which will be as satisfying
>as his mother's milk,
>which he cannot remember.
>The first flavour on his tongue
>apart from its own familar saliva,
>was the taste of his mother's milk
>which he cannot remember
>but for which he is suddenly grateful.
>
>The bird returns with a moth
>as pale as milk, or moonlight.
>The fledgling swallows it with a bulge
>of eyeballs, then gapes again.
>
>                             grasshopper

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