3 | "Tappings of the blind" [ballade]

I've known the autumnal light
as it insinuates sweetness
caught sight of the sparrow's flight
felt its particular fleetness
I've studied leafless neatness
in the bare wintering tree
but I in my incompleteness
mine own self cannot see

I acknowledge the purr of cars
all revved up for destination
I discern the delight of jars
so brimming with information
I recognize rich narration
in summertime's symphony
but mine is a crushed elation
for my self I cannot see

I've trained my eye on the manners
of both the stingy and the kind
descried hope's fluttering banners
counted tappings of the blind
yes fathomed the flow of mind
in dainty volumes of poetry
one bobbin I can't unwind
my self I cannot see

William   I pine to find
my right work eventually
through dark while light has shined
my self I cannot see



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This is the third ballade in a sequence: A crushed elation

The poems are dedicated (and thus, per an adapted convention, their final stanzas are addressed) to W.S. Merwin.