“The Starling” is a beautiful and evocative poem by American poet Amy Lowell, published in her 1915 collection “Sword Blades and Poppy Seed.” The poem captures the fleeting moment of a starling’s flight, describing its graceful movements and the sensations it evokes in the speaker.
The poem begins with the speaker noticing the starling’s flight, as it “dips and starts, and stops and springs.” The starling’s movements are compared to a “twisted skein” of wool, which suggests both the intricacy and the seemingly chaotic nature of the bird’s flight. The speaker is clearly captivated by the starling’s movements, and watches as it “flies straight up, and leans / And turns, and catches at the wind, / And beats its wings, and spreads its tail.”
As the starling continues to fly, the speaker begins to experience a range of emotions. At first, there is a sense of joy and wonder, as the starling “trails its yellow feet / Over the sun-baked roofs.” The speaker is clearly caught up in the beauty of the moment, and marvels at the starling’s ability to defy gravity and soar through the air.
However, this sense of wonder is quickly tempered by a feeling of sadness and longing. The speaker notes that the starling’s flight is “a living gush of light,” and wishes that she too could “catch the bird’s flight in a thought, / And keep it fixed and brimming bright.” There is a sense that the speaker is yearning for something that is just out of reach, something that she can see but not quite grasp.
The poem ends with the speaker acknowledging the transience of the moment, and the fleeting nature of all things. She notes that “The starling is gone; the heavens turn / A moment’s ceaseless seam.” Despite this, however, there is a sense that the memory of the starling’s flight will stay with her forever, and that it has left an indelible mark on her soul.
Overall, “The Starling” is a powerful and poignant poem that captures the beauty and fragility of life. Through the simple act of watching a bird in flight, Lowell is able to evoke a range of emotions and explore complex themes such as longing, transience, and the search for meaning in a world that is constantly changing. It is a testament to Lowell’s skill as a poet, and a reminder of the power of language to capture the fleeting moments of our lives.
The Starling
Of self confines my poor rebellious soul,
I never see the towering white clouds roll
Before a sturdy wind, save through the small
Barred window of my jail. I live a thrall
With all my outer life a clipped, square hole,
Rectangular; a fraction of a scroll
Unwound and winding like a worsted ball.
My thoughts are grown uneager and depressed
Through being always mine, my fancy’s wings
Are moulted and the feathers blown away.
I weary for desires never guessed,
For alien passions, strange imaginings,
To be some other person for a day.
