Tracy K. Smith’s poetry had the power to dig into my brain and make me think of things that I find the least important on a daily basis. The line: “When our laughter skids across the floor/ like beads yanked from some girl’s throat, / what waits where the laughter gathers?” served me as great imagery although I still did not see where the poem was going until I read the line where she says “We move in and out of rooms, leaving/ our dust, our voices pooled on sills.” I understood this as an advisement that there is more to this world than we realize. Everything that we see with our own eyes is not all that exists. Existences that we do not know about are screaming for our attention but we do not hear the
Tracy K. Smith’s poetry had the power to dig into my brain and make me think of things that I find the least important on a daily basis. The line: “When our laughter skids across the floor/ like beads yanked from some girl’s throat, / what waits where the laughter gathers?” served me as great imagery although I still did not see where the poem was going until I read the line where she says “We move in and out of rooms, leaving/ our dust, our voices pooled on sills.” I understood this as an advisement that there is more to this world than we realize. Everything that we see with our own eyes is not all that exists. Existences that we do not know about are screaming for our attention but we do not hear the