As It Begins With A Brush Stroke On A Snare Drum Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEF GH IJDKLM NOPQRS TU VBWXYG ZA2HB2C2D2 E2IF2G2H2V I2J2GK2V L2C2M2N2O2H P2Q2R2Q2Q2C2 S2T2U2HJ2V2 W2X2C2Y2Q2Y Q2Z2A3Z2R2Q2 C2P2B3Q2J2Z2 C3Q2Z2 Z2Q2Z2VVVD3R2Q2 R2J2E2Z2Q2V Z2VZ2Q2Q2Z2 Z2Q2P2Z2Q2Q2 BMH2E3VQ2 Z2Q2Q2A3I2Z2 VMQ2Q2Q2J2 Q2Q2F3MQ2Z2 MB3R2Z2Z2Z2 A2Q2G3VH3V I3J2Q2V J3 Q2Q2R2VVQ2 Z2C2K3L3Z2Z2 R2Q2Z2R2I2W2 M3The plaza was so still in that moment two years ago that | A |
everything was clear | B |
As if it had been preserved beneath a kind of lacquered | C |
stillness for a while | D |
I did not even notice the pigeons lifting above the sad tiles | E |
of churches | F |
- | |
Or how they must have sounded like applause that is not | G |
meant for anyone | H |
- | |
I must not have noticed that blind woman on the corner who | I |
begged coins | J |
For a living who had one eye swelled shut entirely while | D |
the other a thin film | K |
Of glaucoma over it that had taken on the lustreless sheen | L |
of a nickel | M |
- | |
Was held wide open to witness spittle on the curb And soon | N |
the band | O |
In their sun bleached military uniforms were tuning up beneath | P |
the blossom of rust | Q |
Covering the gazebo its eaves festooned with the off white | R |
spiderwebs of unlit Christmas lights | S |
- | |
And that girl Socorro her smile surfacing voluptuously as | T |
an unspoken thought | U |
- | |
Again was selling gardenias their petals already beginning | V |
to appear | B |
Faintly discolored around the edges from a basket she carried | W |
on her head | X |
In an unwobbling stillness Martin was selling chicklets but | Y |
no one bought | G |
- | |
Chicklets anymore no one bought the little squawking birds | Z |
or the cheap stone | A2 |
Animals turned out on a lathe in Veracruz either no one | H |
wanted his shoes shined | B2 |
By then the band was playing show tunes from My Fair Lady | C2 |
South Pacific was | D2 |
- | |
Interrupted only once because of a routine demonstration by | E2 |
the Communists who | I |
Mostly were demonstrating because it was Sunday because | F2 |
that is what they did | G2 |
On Sundays After a while I started walking vaguely away | H2 |
beside some fading stonework | V |
- | |
Which in fact is not called Our Lady of Perfect Solitude nor | I2 |
even Our Sister | J2 |
Of Perpetual Solitude but simply Santo Domingo I do not | G |
know why I walked near it then | K2 |
passed without entering | V |
- | |
- | |
- | |
Still in the painting the children kept skating the others | L2 |
are probably | C2 |
Walking home from school at this moment in their yellow | M2 |
raincoats with | N2 |
The stale smells left on wax paper locked in their lunch pails | O2 |
That woman | H |
- | |
Keeps brushing her hair so somewhere it is still | P2 |
the riot police | Q2 |
Are spilling Out of their buses On the marsh above the | R2 |
Sound there were egrets | Q2 |
There were black swans nesting in the rushes the canal was | Q2 |
warm salty | C2 |
- | |
There was a cabin filling with so much moonlight I almost | S2 |
believed I could | T2 |
Dissolve in it if I sat very still I sat very still I watched | U2 |
my son | H |
Skating at the edge of a pond in his sleep It was summer | J2 |
by the time | V2 |
- | |
I finally saw the painting in Brussels counted each one of | W2 |
the children as if | X2 |
To make sure they were still there then gradually | C2 |
lost count in the dream | Y2 |
Of the plowman on the hill there must have been the face | Q2 |
of an English poet | Y |
- | |
Looking as lined as a maple leaf pressed between the pages | Q2 |
of a book Beneath it | Z2 |
The Danube is gliding I am just holding his book now | A3 |
not even needing to read it | Z2 |
Anymore as I cross into the frontier green wheat alfalfa a | R2 |
feeling of distance | Q2 |
- | |
In it all like sleep or rain reclaiming some lost rural Missouri | C2 |
slum town until | P2 |
It no longer exists now the Hungarian checkpoint where | B3 |
guards with stars | Q2 |
The shade of American lipstick on their caps will enter | J2 |
seem proud of the unchipped | Z2 |
- | |
Deep blue enamel on their machine guns Most of them are | C3 |
just poor teen agers | Q2 |
From the surrounding villages farms innocent | Z2 |
- | |
The only glamour that is left | Z2 |
On the Orient Express | Q2 |
Is a soiled torn doily on an armrest | Z2 |
Rhyme then rhyme dream but in the other painting | V |
which is not a painting | V |
They are trudging home from school in the rain which is like | V |
a kind of sleep | D3 |
When one of them thinks the mind is not the mind in the | R2 |
unbewitched meticulous | Q2 |
- | |
First shaping of numbers on a blackboard it is only the | R2 |
shadow of a skater over | J2 |
A white pond There is a sea beyond it roughened by | E2 |
whitecaps the mind | Z2 |
Moves first one way then another then both ways at once | Q2 |
then one long | V |
- | |
Glide past the pines that look black from this far away but | Z2 |
aren't black | V |
The boy's friend is saying he 'hates school but only sort | Z2 |
of ' But the child's | Q2 |
Not listening he is thinking that something he painted was | Q2 |
something he dreamt | Z2 |
- | |
And then some of the dream got mixed in with the paint | Z2 |
then with recess | Q2 |
The afternoon this long walk in the rain now he will | P2 |
never get it sorted | Z2 |
Out In the story the boy falling must have thought his | Q2 |
father had wings | Q2 |
- | |
Unlike his own real That is why the myth is so clear | B |
so cruel | M |
And why we survive it Yellow rain gear Black woods Gray | H2 |
sky Home | E3 |
Is where you can forget some things the boy is thinking | V |
because he is | Q2 |
- | |
Tired from having to walk for so long because he has left | Z2 |
his galoshes | Q2 |
At school his shoes are wet as he unthinkingly turns his | Q2 |
back to me now | A3 |
Goes up the worn slick steps of a front porch the door | I2 |
closes And | Z2 |
- | |
Because I am not allowed to see it there is a glass of milk | V |
on the table | M |
The stairs behind it are dark from a narrow upstairs | Q2 |
window there is | Q2 |
A glimpse of the sea later in his dream there is sometimes | Q2 |
a father | J2 |
- | |
And then it is more like a story about a father then it is | Q2 |
the hush of ice | Q2 |
Over a pond's surface In spring when it begins to thaw | F3 |
there is a little | M |
Noise underneath it like steel sighing if steel could sigh as | Q2 |
it seems to | Z2 |
- | |
Sometimes when you are walking home alone on a trestle | M |
above a river there | B3 |
Is a broken pattern of geese above it a vee decomposing a | R2 |
sky mottled with blue | Z2 |
And some clouds It is like a father dissolving setting you | Z2 |
free what | Z2 |
- | |
Has the father ever achieved that will outlast his own | A2 |
vanishing And so | Q2 |
The boy spits over the raillng watches the silvery web | G3 |
of it falling | V |
And thinning until it is gossamer a filament untying itself | H3 |
forever saying | V |
- | |
Exactly what forever always meant to say that this long pull | I3 |
of spring tide in the river | J2 |
Needs nothing nothing except its one momentary witness | Q2 |
a boy pausing | V |
- | |
Above it all on a bridge | J3 |
- | |
In Oaxaca after the bomb went off there were nevertheless | Q2 |
a few seconds | Q2 |
A pure stillness in which I could hear the fountain in the | R2 |
plaza distant traffic | V |
The sudden silence of birds Then everyone was rushing | V |
through the streets | Q2 |
- | |
Toward a place where sound had been a place that wasn't | Z2 |
there It is funny | C2 |
But the sound of a bomb a few seconds after it has gone | K3 |
off is no longer even | L3 |
Surprising In a little while it seems only right sad I sat | Z2 |
in the balcony of a restaurant | Z2 |
- | |
Overlooking it all read a poem by Alberto Blanco in the | R2 |
magazine edited by Paz | Q2 |
And waited for the place to open in the next hour watched | Z2 |
the plaza | R2 |
Gradually fill with the usual crowds those who love or | I2 |
those who think they love | W2 |
- | |
Novelty change | M3 |
Larry Levis
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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