Blackberries for Amelia by Richard Wilbur

Richard Wilbur was born in New York City on March 1, 1921. Wilbur currently lives in Cummington, Massachusetts and is a Chancellor Emeritus of The Academy of American Poets.'

For this week's poetry response, I am supposed to try a new strategy. I decided to look at elements of a poem that I do not normally look at right away. I started reading the poem altogether looking for the tone and finding the speaker, looked at the figurative language next, and then I tried to understand the meaning of the poem.

Blackberries for Amelia

Fringing the woods, the stone walls, and the lanes,
Old thickets everywhere have come alive,
Their new leaves reaching out in fans of five
From tangles overarched by this year's canes.

They have their flowers too, it being June,
And here or there in brambled dark-and-light
Are small, five-petaled blooms of chalky white,
As random-clustered and as loosely strewn

As the far stars, of which we now are told
That ever faster do they bolt away,
And that a night may come in which, some say,
We shall have only blackness to behold.

I have no time for any change so great,
But I shall see the August weather spur
Berries to ripen where the flowers were—
Dark berries, savage-sweet and worth the wait—

And there will come the moment to be quick
And save some from the birds, and I shall need
Two pails, old clothes in which to stain and bleed,
And a grandchild to talk with while we pick.

First off, with the title "Blackberries for Amelia," I thought it could be a love poem where a guy gives a girl blackberries to show his affection. I was way off, but I am allowed to make mistakes. After reading the poem, I decided the tone could be reminiscent or nostalgic. I felt like the speaker (who I pictured as an old grandpa) reflected back at a happier time of the past. Plus, the speaker does not seem to want to look at the future, but only to the past and maybe present.

Some figurative language I saw was personification, imagery, simile, metaphor, and alliteration. Wilbur writes "Old thickets everywhere have come alive." The personification in this line helps me see the blackberries as more than blackberries that I eat or put in a smoothie, but as something more like a happy memory or reflection. I am a very visual person so the imagery "And here or there in brambled dark-and-light Are small, five petalled blooms of chalky white" helps me feel and see the poem. I need to be able to imagine the poem to understand it. Also, the metaphor of the blackberries and the simile "As random-clustered and as loosely strewn As the far stars" help me see the blackberries as something different. Finally, the alliteration of "Dark berries, savage-sweet and worth the wait" helps me understand the importance of patience and waiting for things.

Overall, I think the speaker of the poem uses the blackberries as a way to reflect on the past. The speaker uses the time length from June to August (summer), so I feel like he takes things one season at a time like some people take one day at a time. I think the Amelia of the title is the grandchild the speaker describes at the end; something the speaker always looked forward to was spending quality time with his grandchild while picking blackberries. Sometimes I feel like people avoid the past or only remember the big moments (happy or tragic), but I like how Wilbur describes a small scale memory that brings joy to the reader. Plus, the speaker has to wait for the time for the blackberries to ripen, so the event seems even more special after a long, patient wait. I hope my grandma remembers (happily) spending time with me as we ate scones and read together like the speaker does with his grandchild and picking blackberries.

Movie Scene

After swim practice, I climb into the driver's seat with my half frozen hair stuck to my forehead. I hastily put on my gloves while I pray for the car to heat faster. Even with my gloves on, the steering wheel could be confused with a block of ice. I look into the mirror and groan in frustration. Ice has formed onto my back windshield; I will have to leave the warmth of the car to scrape the ice. I rush out to the back of the car and freeze. I forgot the ice scraper in the passenger seat! My hair feels completely frozen, and my nose is dripping by the time I get the ice scraper. Slowly, I scrape all of the ice away. Finished, I run back into the blistering warmth of the car. Now, I can head home.

Mr. Fear by Lawrence Raab

Before I start my analysis on the poem Mr. Fear, I did a small background check of Lawrence Raab. He was born in 1946 in Pittsfield, Massachusetts and is still alive. Raab is an English Professor at Williams College.

I decided to analyze the poem stanza by stanza because I struggle at understanding poetry. I would label poetry as one of my greatest weaknesses in AP Lit, but I plan on improving this semester.

"He follows us, he keeps track. Each day his lists are longer. Here, death, and here, something like it." I decided the he in the stanza is Mr. Fear because Raab is personifying fear. I think Raab is saying is that fear watches what things or events people fear and keep tabs on new fears that are created each day.

"Mr. Fear, we say in our dreams, what do you have for me tonight? And he looks through his sack, his black sack of troubles." I believe this stanza is saying that Mr. Fear finds specific fears for each person because people react to different things. For example, as a child I was terrified of gorillas, and I would cry when I saw a picture or stuffed animal of one. My sister was indifferent to gorillas, but could not stand crickets (even if they were outside). Also, I think that people sometimes anticipate having a nightmare because most people believe that someone cannot have peaceful, pleasant dreams every night.

"Maybe he smiles when he finds the right one. Maybe he's sorry. Tell me, Mr. Fear, what I must carry" I feel this stanza is saying that no one knows how Mr. Fear might feel about his job. Some might think he is a terrible monster who enjoys causing people to sweat in terror each night. Others might think that Mr. Fear has no choice over his job; he does not enjoy it, but must do it. The way Raab describes Mr. Fear reminds me of the portrayal of Pitch Black in the movie The Rise of the Guardians. Pitch Black enjoys destroying the happy dreams of the Sandman by creating them into nightmares. But at the same time, Pitch Black is lonely.

"away from your dream. Make it small, please. Let it fit in my pocket, let it fall through" Some people think that if they have to have a nightmare, they would like a small one that is easily forgettable in the morning. No one likes to remember terrifying events even if the events are not real.

"the hole in my pocket. Fear, let me have a small brown bat and a purse of crickets" To the person in the poem, a small bat or a purse of crickets would be considered a small nightmare. The bat or crickets might make a person cringe in disgust or be worried that he or she might be touched be the insect or animal. At least, the bat or crickets do not leave a person gasping for breath, clutching the blankets to his or her chest night after night.

"like the ones I heard singing last night out there in the stubbly field before I slept, and met you." Sometimes a person dreams about something that happened not even a hour before bed. But each night, a person might have to face his or her fears depending on whether he or she is visited by Mr. Fear or the Sandman.

Overall, I feel Raab is saying that fear is real, a person must face his or her fears every night, and fears are different from person to person.