What I don’t understand is why the poet chose the word “belongings” at the end. Why not “things?” It seems more appropriate for this poem.
Up until the last line of the fourth stanza, every single word in the poem is either a single or double syllable word. Not until “unhappy” are we ever confronted with more than a a two syllable word. The poem’s simplicity is so elegant it makes one wonder why, other than “unhappy,” is any word with more than two syllables necessary.
Unhappy is the right word. The image is startling, “Unhappy as a mute songbird.” The line ending with “mute” and the next stanza beginning with “songbird” creates a mundane beauty that shines brighter than a nickel in the sun. The perfect image for the poem.
Then the rest of the poem is all single and double syllable words. All of them. Except one. “Belongings.” Three syllables. Why that one? It holds no special meaning like “unhappy” does. If the poet were to substitute “unhappy” with anything else, it would have lost its luster. But “belongings” into “things” would be an improvement. Things is simpler, more elegant. Less cumbersome.
The lead in to it so pure, “The rusted cage,” and I wonder why it’s rusted, but it holds nothing. Her eyes, sad as they are, they hold nothing. Her static face is muddy with tears. Probably because it holds nothing. I can see that even the tears do not hold, but fall. She is sad, and her suitcase, it doesn’t hold nothing. It holds something. It holds her … things. The vague definition of her belongings, which is more specific because they imply ownership. But, things? No ownership. If she’s the saddest thing she should have no ownership. I’d prefer “things.” If for any reason, because of the repetition, the alliteration, the implication of “thing,” a mere object.
One simple little imperfection. It’s still a nice poem.
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