Wood Thrush Song – a poem by Charles Weld

When Thoreau writes It is delivered like a bolas
or a piece of jingling steel, the prey, I guess,
is he, himself, caught in the web of balls
and line, until, legs bound tight, he leans and falls,
taken down by the Wood Thrush’s caroling.
And when he writes in late December, recalling
June woods filled with that fine metallic ring,
that he would be drunk, drunk, drunk, dead
drunk to this world with it forever, there’s no dread,
only excitement at the thought of being
brought down by Wood Thrush song again. Deep
calls to deep, making balance hard to keep
like a pond, when it turns over its 100 feet
of water, erasing the layers that’d kept things neat.

Charles Weld’s poems have appeared in magazines such as Snakeskin, Southern Poetry Review, The Evansville Review, Worcester Review, CT Review, Friends Journal, Vita Brevis, Better Than Starbucks etc. Pudding House published a chapbook of his poems, Country I Would Settle In, in 2004. Kattywompus Press published another chapbook, Who Cooks For You? in 2012. His poems were included in FootHills Publishing’s anthology Birdsong in 2017. A mental health counselor, he’s worked primarily in a non-profit agency treating youth who face mental health challenges, and lives in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York, USA.

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