Nothing but Blue

Nothing but Blue
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audio of Kathryn Locey's poem, Nothing but Blue

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Nothing but Blue

Thoreau calls the merlin
a tenant of the air
but such a metaphor
requires clouds—nesting place
for almost weightless wings,
the swooping heart and eye
that know the sky. Too bad
this morning’s spotless reach
of blue above the pines
suggests no fanciful
boarding house for bob-whites,
no breezy porch to perch
a speckled thought.