Analysis of Home
Curtis Carmen Davis 1973 (Savannah, TN)
Rays of light filtered through
the wooden beams next to
the rusted satellite that had lain
in the field for some time.
The trailer was full of sundry limbs.
By the dead cherry tree, the shed
housed wood and yellow bricks under
a torn, rugged roof of lost days.
Taller than frail coops was the pig pen.
The rusted roof of the hen house
shined against the orange and pink glow.
A behemoth of a tree has left
lingering dead limbs gnarled and gray
under its sheltering, massive arms.
Below the pinnacle in the sky,
warmth radiated here for a while
beneath dying embers of the sun.
In this last light, he traveled across
the twilight opposite to the birds,
flocking at the place where the sun
lapsed into the growth of forest.
How the tall family of thin limbs
arced into overlapping windows.
The arches of these Gothic trees
were silhouettes against the sunset.
Black as silk, they framed the glass.
My life was dormant of release
as this winter sheen has given way
to the unobscured Spring equinox.
Let the graying smoke have faded,
like life returning to the dead.
Let this winter have fallen behind me.
Now, the first signs of life returned
to its once great dome of bright green.
Every footstep was cushioned by moss
with the new lavender and green sheathes.
Yet, an unsettling twig snapped.
Hours rip crisscrossing wires.
They have fallen like tattered pieces
of fabric by boards with rusted nails.
Then I tripped on the grizzly fungus,
covering of dank, rotting decay.
After a few more steps, mushroom
fumes darted upward, the blackened stump
caught my memory more than my feet.
The days cascaded like waterfalls.
Falling into the raked leaves' mass,
a playful child was caught by the roots
protruding from the maple tree.
He was on the way to with buckets
to pick blackberries and muscadines.
After many winters, remains
of the false tree-house were left
Time has ravaged the wood.
Its staircase now led nowhere.
The trunks of the twin trees were robust,
grasping life and seizing each day.
Now only the twin trees were left
breaking through on the yard's border.
Standing tall, the Gemini spread
its wings into the sky, drawing
its procession of strength and stature
from the vibrant rays above the grove.
Scheme | AAXXBCDXX XXEFXXXGH XGIBXXXJX FXXCKXXHB XXXXXFXXX XJXKXBXEX XIFEDCXDX |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 111101 010111 01010111 001111 010111101 10110101 11010110 01101111 101111011 01011011 101010011 001010111 10011101 101100101 010100001 11001101 011010101 011111001 01100101 10101101 10101110 101100111 10110010 01011101 0010101 1111101 11110101 111011101 101110 10101110 11010101 1110110011 10111101 11111111 100111011 101100011 11010011 1011010 111011010 110111101 111101010 100111001 10011110 110100101 111001111 01010110 10010111 010111101 01010101 111011110 111001 10101001 1011101 111001 11111 011011001 10101011 11001101 10110110 1010101 11010110 101011010 101010101 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,237 |
Words | 439 |
Sentences | 29 |
Stanzas | 7 |
Stanza Lengths | 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9 |
Lines Amount | 63 |
Letters per line (avg) | 28 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 253 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 55 |
About this poem
I wrote home about the home and property I grew up at in Savannah, Tennessee. We used to farm the backyard with three big gardens and we had pear, grape, blackberry and muscadine orchards. We had chicken, a pig, and three dogs. We also farmed a big lot down Pinhook Road and closer to the country. Mom said when I was about seven I asked, "How come movie stars don't have to work in the fields?" The poem was first published in The Secret Life of Poets.
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Written on 1998
Submitted by zero_of_nine on September 10, 2022
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:12 min read
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"Home" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 11 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/137368/home>.
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