No, no writing yet. But a poem which I would be interested to see people’s interpretations of. My senior-year English teacher had an interpretation of this one that he was pretty certain of, but reading it again a year-and-a-half later, I’m not able to tease the same meaning out of these sparse lines.<\/p>\n
My Papa’s Waltz
\nby Theodore Roethke<\/p>\n
The whiskey on your breath
\nCould make a small boy dizzy;
\nBut I hung on like death:
\nSuch waltzing was not easy.<\/p>\n
We romped until the pans
\nSlid from the kitchen shelf;
\nMy mother’s countenance
\nCould not unfrown itself.<\/p>\n
The hand that held my wrist
\nWas battered on one knuckle;
\nAt every step you missed
\nMy right ear scraped a buckle.<\/p>\n
You beat time on my head
\nWith a palm caked hard by dirt,
\nThen waltzed me off to bed
\nStill clinging to your shirt.<\/p>\n
I’ll offer my teacher’s interpretation in a couple of days, after
\neveryone has had a chance to scratch their heads a bit and share their
\nown opinions.<\/p>\n
Pesky Godson<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
No, no writing yet. But a poem which I would be interested to see people’s interpretations of. My senior-year English teacher had an interpretation of this one that he was pretty certain of, but reading it again a year-and-a-half later, … Continue reading