Thirteen Ways Of Looking At A Blackbird

IAmong twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the black bird.III was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.IIIThe blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.IVA man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.VI do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.VIIcicles 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.VIIO thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?VIIII know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.IXWhen the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.XAt the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.XIHe rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.XIIThe river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.XIIIIt was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.