On A Clear Day (edits 1)

[Laura Stone]

On A Clear Day

They come to this place
and light on the branches
of an ancient tree,
huddled against the season,
ruffling their feathers
against the cold,
against the stark view
of a fading afternoon.

Without warning
they lift to the sky
these birds of white,
wings billowing to flight
until all that is left
is the whistle of the wind
through boney limbs.

[alfredo]

I read this because I liked Morning so much

It's just terrific ...it flows so easily (making some "other stuff" contrived and unpoetical)

Reminded me of the Darkling Thrush


Consider:-

.. light on the old branches
of an ancient tree,

huddled (as) like snow clung
on a December ground,

My favourite:-

is the whistle through
boney fingers of bared limbs;


PS It this is metaphorical at all? e.g. Old people in an old people's home?

[Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47]

I like Alfredo's thoughts here. I think the poem is very visual, somewhat reminiscent of your poem about the flowers.
In S2L4, "wings billowing in flight" might be preferred.

If not for your title, I would drop the last line for a more powerful finale.

[mfwilkie]

They come to this place
and alight on the old* branches
of an ancient tree,

* If the tree is ancient, the branches are ancient as well.
Another modifier for branches that helps develope the image might be considered, but you don't have to use one.


huddled like snow* clung
* *The idea of snow huddled isn't working for me, Laura.
What if you said:
huddled against the season? It would give you an opportunity to use repitition in the next few lines.

on a December ground,
ruffling their feathers
against the cold,
against the stark view
of a fading afternoon.

*Is December late winter?


All at once * How about: Without warning, they lift, to develope the image?
they lift to the air
on wings evolved for survival(?)* I moved this line up.
these birds of white,
until all that is left
is the (modifier here, I think)whistling of the wind
You need a stronger ending, Laura.

Something like:
until all that is left
is the whistling of the wind
through the spectre of autumn leaves.

Or maybe something to do with spring or the lushness of summer.

boney fingers of bared limbs;
the memory, a clear-day blizzard.

if you're using the title as your opening into the poem, consider:

On a clear day...

they alight

I'm not sure it's necessary to say "They come to this place" to begin the poem, unless they come to this place from migratory habit in winter which would need to be made clear to the reader.

Maggie

[LynnDoiron]

They come to this place
and light on the old branches [alight might be the better choice, not sure; I'd say light myself, but I might be convinced I was wrong. I agree with maggie re: modifier "old" -- I'd use "brittle" and then, in the next line, I'd replace ancient with wide (just for a less worn way of creating the image of the ancient)]
of an ancient a wide tree,
huddled like snow clung
on a December ground,
ruffling their feathers
against the stark cold
of a late winter's afternoon.

All at once
they lift to the air
these birds of white,
wings billowing to flight
until all that is left
is the whistle through
boney fingers of bared limbs;
the memory, a clear-day blizzard.

In spite of all my meddling above, I really like this poem, the feel of it, Laura. Don't let any of us wreck it with too much tweaking.

[Laura Stone]

A bit of revision for your consideration. Thanks for the input.

Laura

[LynnDoiron]

the whistling of the wind in earlier version works better for me than whistle of the wind; i guess it's that extra beat or syllable ...

[wavemaker9 (Rick D.)]

I agree with Lynn. It sounds, to me, better as: "the whistling of the wind..." or perhaps "the whistle of wind..." Certainly a lovely vision.
R