AM05
04-20-2014, 12:21 AM
The poem's title is "Naming the animal" by Nancy K. Barry
Because I was
a stranger in your house
I couldn't kill
the thing. I thought
you wouldn't let me,
It would mean pulling the bed away from
the wall, rearranging furniture
that wasn't ours. I remember how you said
"Don't bother.
Even the strangest
sounding feet
become familiar."
But I kept hearing
the sound of paws moving between the panels
of the bedroom, where space is the only sound
the dark syllabicates, in the accent of dreams.
All night
those feet ran
behind the bed,
between the floor
and ceiling, window and door.
Frightened, I felt for your hard breaths
with cold hands, listening to the animal's
scratches moving through our sleep with foreign
sounds neither
you nor I
could explain.
Still, you slept
purring like wind
upon the snow drifts. I felt for
the animal until my hands splintered
from the raw lumber. You awoke, cursing
my efforts.
"It's a damn
squirrel who's lived
twelve winters
inside the wall. Leave
him alone. He's warmer than I am."
Outside, the snow stacked like bricks
into walls around the house. Finally
I fell asleep, chanting
"squirrel, squirrel"
as he ran in rhythm behind us,
knowing that morning, the snow, and your eyes
would run and claw with stranger motions,
and I, in polite silence, would apologize
for waking you up.
I know that the poem is fairly easy to read, but there must be a deeper message than just a squirrel moving around a room. I had developed some sort of analysis, but I would appreciate some feedback. I believe the house is a symbol (following the religious view that the body houses our spirit, mind and all we are) that serves to describe the second speaker, whom I think is a male. The second speaker's "house," his being, is troubled with the presence of this mysterious "thing" and although he isn't bothered by it, our narrator is. She (assuming she is a woman) wants to attend the situation, but acknowledges that to him she is just a stranger and that he wouldn't let her "rearrange the furniture that wasn't ours" (furniture could be old memories or experiences that were not produced by or with the first speaker). She is still uncomfortable and scared because she doesn't know what "thing" lived in the house, and in the moment she reached for the second speakers comfort, he [violently?] snapped. The squirrel is inside the walls, so the animal is inside the second speaker. The first speaker finally learns the truth, the second speaker is cold (implied by the weather), careless, and violent when bothered (like a squirrel). At the end, she can finally sleep, but regrets awakening that side of the second speaker.
I don't know, does this make sense? I would truly appreciate the feedback because this is for a presentation of mine. Also any other interpretations are well welcomed :) Also, any other ideas of why speak specifically of a squirrel? Do squirrels symbolize anything?
Because I was
a stranger in your house
I couldn't kill
the thing. I thought
you wouldn't let me,
It would mean pulling the bed away from
the wall, rearranging furniture
that wasn't ours. I remember how you said
"Don't bother.
Even the strangest
sounding feet
become familiar."
But I kept hearing
the sound of paws moving between the panels
of the bedroom, where space is the only sound
the dark syllabicates, in the accent of dreams.
All night
those feet ran
behind the bed,
between the floor
and ceiling, window and door.
Frightened, I felt for your hard breaths
with cold hands, listening to the animal's
scratches moving through our sleep with foreign
sounds neither
you nor I
could explain.
Still, you slept
purring like wind
upon the snow drifts. I felt for
the animal until my hands splintered
from the raw lumber. You awoke, cursing
my efforts.
"It's a damn
squirrel who's lived
twelve winters
inside the wall. Leave
him alone. He's warmer than I am."
Outside, the snow stacked like bricks
into walls around the house. Finally
I fell asleep, chanting
"squirrel, squirrel"
as he ran in rhythm behind us,
knowing that morning, the snow, and your eyes
would run and claw with stranger motions,
and I, in polite silence, would apologize
for waking you up.
I know that the poem is fairly easy to read, but there must be a deeper message than just a squirrel moving around a room. I had developed some sort of analysis, but I would appreciate some feedback. I believe the house is a symbol (following the religious view that the body houses our spirit, mind and all we are) that serves to describe the second speaker, whom I think is a male. The second speaker's "house," his being, is troubled with the presence of this mysterious "thing" and although he isn't bothered by it, our narrator is. She (assuming she is a woman) wants to attend the situation, but acknowledges that to him she is just a stranger and that he wouldn't let her "rearrange the furniture that wasn't ours" (furniture could be old memories or experiences that were not produced by or with the first speaker). She is still uncomfortable and scared because she doesn't know what "thing" lived in the house, and in the moment she reached for the second speakers comfort, he [violently?] snapped. The squirrel is inside the walls, so the animal is inside the second speaker. The first speaker finally learns the truth, the second speaker is cold (implied by the weather), careless, and violent when bothered (like a squirrel). At the end, she can finally sleep, but regrets awakening that side of the second speaker.
I don't know, does this make sense? I would truly appreciate the feedback because this is for a presentation of mine. Also any other interpretations are well welcomed :) Also, any other ideas of why speak specifically of a squirrel? Do squirrels symbolize anything?