Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.



You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member and block ads forever...while getting many more great features. Take a look! Thank you!
Get Your Premium Membership


Squatters Children

by
 On the unbreathing sides of hills
they play, a specklike girl and boy,
alone, but near a specklike house.
The Sun's suspended eye blinks casually, and then they wade gigantic waves of light and shade.
A dancing yellow spot, a pup, attends them.
Clouds are piling up; a storm piles up behind the house.
The children play at digging holes.
The ground is hard; they try to use one of their father's tools, a mattock with a broken haft the two of them can scarcely lift.
It drops and clangs.
Their laughter spreads effulgence in the thunderheads, Weak flashes of inquiry direct as is the puppy's bark.
But to their little, soluble, unwarrantable ark, apparently the rain's reply consists of echolalia, and Mother's voice, ugly as sin, keeps calling to them to come in.
Children, the threshold of the storm has slid beneath your muddy shoes; wet and beguiled, you stand among the mansions you may choose out of a bigger house than yours, whose lawfulness endures.
It's soggy documents retain your rights in rooms of falling rain.

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - Squatters ChildrenEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...


Top Elizabeth Bishop Poems

Analysis and Comments on Squatters Children

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Squatters Children here.