The arched stone bridge is an eye,
with underlid in the water.
In its lens
dip crinkled heads with hats
that don't fall off. Dogs go by,
barking on their backs.
A baby, taken to feed the
ducks, dangles upside-down,
a pink balloon for a buoy.
The narrator of this poem reflects upon a specific scene/location from the perspective of a river or creek. In this stanza, the narrator likens the arched stone bridge to an eye and reflects upon the bridge’s perspective. The bridge witnesses many things, including dogs, babies, ducks, and balloons—all of which would appear upside down, reflected in the water. In this way, this stanza suggests that specific locations are witnesses to various different types of humans, beings, creatures, animals, and events. These objects are silent observers, just like the arched stone bridge.
The binocular owl,
fastened to a limb
like a lantern
all night long […]
In this opening stanza, the narrator considers the irony of the owl, who slumbers during the day and hunts at night. The narrator suggests that owls are observant, predatory creatures who perch on tree limbs, always looking for vulnerable prey to hunt. When the narrator compares the owl to a lantern, she suggests that the owls are unmoving—they remain still and on alert until the moment when they find something to hunt. In short, this opening stanza sets the tone and atmosphere for the remainder of the poem by portraying owls as sly, careful, and patient predatory animals who hunt at night while all other birds sleep.
Deciding to go on digging doing it
what they said outside wasn’t any use
Inside hiding it made it get ambitious [...]
The narrator of this poem—presumably May Swenson, herself—explores her own hidden sexuality. In this quotation, she implies that her true sexuality is buried deep within her; she is hiding it for fear of the way others will react and perceive her. This method, however—of hiding her sexuality—has been for naught, as it does not want to be tamed nor hidden. In this way, this quotation outlines the struggle the narrator feels—does she hide her sexuality and allow it to fester inside her or does she share it openly and risk ridicule and judgement?
By morning we’ll be
children feeding on manna
a new loaf on every doorsill.
The narrator of this poem reflects upon the ways in which snowfall can fundamentally transform and soften even the hardest of souls. She explains that the morning after a snowfall is positively magical and has the ability to transport adults to their childhood. She likens the snow to manna from heaven, as snow is a blessing that allows even the coldest of adults to revert back to their childhood and sustain their soul.
