Blue Ridge

Blue Ridge
by Ellen Bryant Voigt

Up there on the mountain road, the fireworks
blistered and subsided, for once at eye level:
spatter of light like water flicked from the fingers;
the brief emergent pattern; and after the afterimage bled
from the night sky, a delayed and muffled thud
that must have seemed enormous down below,
the sound concomitant with the arranged
threat of fire above the bleachers.
I stood as tall and straight as possible,
trying to compensate, trying not to lean in my friend’s
direction. Beside me, correcting height, he slouched
his shoulders, knees locked, one leg stuck out
to form a defensive angle with the other.
Thus we were most approximate
and most removed.

In the long pauses
between explosions, he’d signal conversation
by nodding vaguely toward the ragged pines.
I said my children would have loved the show.
He said we were watching youth at a great distance,
and I thought how the young
are truly boring, unvaried as they are
by the deep scar of doubt, the constant afterimage
of regret—no major tension in their bodies, no tender
hesitation, they don’t yet know
that this is so much work, scraping
from the self its multiple desires; don’t yet know
fatigue with self, the hunger for obliteration
that wakes us in the night at the dead hour
and fuels good sex.

Of course I didn’t say it.
I realized he watched the fireworks
with the cool attention he had turned on women
dancing in the bar, a blunt uninvested gaze
calibrating every moving part, thighs,
breasts, the muscles of abandon.
I had wanted that gaze on me.
And as the evening dwindled to its nub,
its puddle of tallow, appetite without object,
as the men peeled off to seek
the least encumbered consolation
and the women grew expansive with regard—
how have I managed so long to stand among the paired
bodies, the raw pulsing music driving
loneliness into the air like scent,
and not be seized by longing,
not give anything to be summoned
into the larger soul two souls can make?
Watching the fireworks with my friend,
so little ease between us,
I see that I have armed myself;
fire changes everything it touches.

Perhaps he has foreseen this impediment.
Perhaps when he holds himself within himself,
a sheathed angular figure at my shoulder,
he means to be protective less of him
than me, keeping his complicating rage
inside his body. And what would it solve
if he took one hand from his pocket,
risking touch, risking invitation—
if he took my hand it would not alter
this explicit sadness.

The evening stalls,
the fireworks grow boring at this remove.
The traffic prowling the highway at our backs,
the couples, the families scuffling on the bank
must think us strangers to each other. Or,
more likely, with the celebrated fireworks thrusting
their brilliant repeating designs above the ridge,
we simply blur into the foreground,
like the fireflies dragging among the trees
their separate, discontinuous lanterns.

Literary Analysis
This poem is based on the experiences of a single woman, who may be a widow or separated from her life partner. The theme of this poem is based on the life experiences of a single woman or a woman who wants a loving partner. The poet also illustrates the existence of divergent forces such as good and evil and attraction and separation in an individual. The setting for the poem is near the foothills of the Blue Ridge, a rural mountainous region in Georgia. The title "Blue Ridge" suggests

The overall tone and impact of the poem is melancholic and pessimistic, although initially the tone is vibrant and upbeat, tinged with some element of sadness. The poet narrates her personal ordeal as a woman in society.

She opens the poem with a description of Blue Ridge, where the speaker has gone with her boyfriend to see the fireworks, which "blistered and subsided." She stands and watches the fireworks and pretends to show interest in her boyfriend, although she doesn't seem to be pleased with her because she is "trying to compensate, / trying not to lean in my friend's direction."

However, in the second stanza, she affirms her experience of being married as different from those young people who do not have a partner and have no responsibilities other than the enjoyment of life. This seems quite boring to him, here he directs his attention to these young people, stating that they do not have "much tension in the body, no tenderness / hesitation, they still do not know / that this is a lot of work". She makes a comparison between the states of being married and single. She then she talks about the dancing women and her friend looking at them. She says, "I wanted that look on me."

There is a great distance between the poet and her. boyfriend, which does not allow them to get closer to each other, this makes her feel that something is missing in their relationship, this gives her a feeling of loneliness, that her friend realizes, and puts her arm around her shoulders. this solitary act does not satisfy her, because "if she took my hand it would not alter / this explicit sadness". The speaker had tasted the flavors of married life, as it “wakes us up at night at the dead hour / and feeds good sex. She misses the joys of married life.

Finally, the party is over and the fireworks look boring. The poet feels that others must have imagined them as strangers because they could not get close to each other, and therefore "they must think that we are strangers." each other. "At the end of the poem, the speaker uses a simile to compare the two to fireflies saying," like fireflies crawling through the trees / their separate and discontinuous lanterns. "

Structural Analysis
" Blue Ridge "is a poem lyric divided into five long stanzas; the first two stanzas contain 15 verses, the third contains 22 verses and the last two stanzas contain 10 verses each. The poem is written in free verse and therefore there is no rhyme scheme in any of the stanzas. The metric pattern alternates with trochaic pentameter to trochaic hexameter such as "Up there on the mountain road, the fireworks / blistered and subsided." The diction of this poem is simple and denotative, since it is hardly used no figurative language. Enjambment is used multiple times in many lines as "the emergent brief pattern; and after the afterimage bled / of the night sky, a delayed thud and muffled / which must have looked huge below. " The final line is in the middle of the stanzas. Alliteration is used in the third line of the first stanza where we see the repetition of the "f" sound: "flicked off the fingers". Another example of alliteration is the “s” sound in “standing” and “straight”.

Instructions on how to use quotations
This poem is based on the experience of a widowed woman. She seems lonely without a partner and has children. She is introduced with a male companion, but she is not satisfied. Instead, she wants to be loved like a good life partner. She feels a little insecure in this part of her life. In the same way, women can send quotes from this poem to their lovers to express their wishes on special occasions:

“I wanted that look on me… .
if he took my hand, it would not change that expressed sadness.
Blackberry-Picking Bright Star, Would I Were Stedfast as Thou Art