A red-winged blackbird sits, watching me, his fence post newly staked, bark on, topside down. At arms length, rusty fence pliers bounce along a span of barbed wire. One. Two. Three. “Hemlock, see, twists as it dries—” that’s Cunningham’s voice, “stretches the wire. Set one post wrong-way-to and it’ll sag right there.”


Come a day I recall Seamus Heaney and with newfound pride—my own name and that red-winged blackbird down Vernon River way.


Seamus Heaney, renowned Irish poet, wrote the fabulous poem, St. Kevin and the Blackbird.

2 Replies to “Cunningham”

  1. Very engaging. I transported into the scene you painted with these words.

  2. I found this fascinating!! You have quite a way with words Kevin!

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