Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained

Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem “In That Time” is a meditation on memory, time, and the elusive nature of understanding. It moves through fragmented images that capture moments of transition, reflection, and loss, creating a landscape where past and present blur into one another. The poem’s tone is quiet and contemplative, weaving together the natural world, human longing, and the way time reshapes experience.

The opening lines suggest a day that is not simply passing but has a distinct shape: “The day had its own shape / like a dress pinned up by the shoulders.” This simile evokes both structure and suspension, as if time itself is something momentarily fixed in place before it is let down and worn. The following line, “The day was sweeping water past the windows,” introduces motion, reinforcing the idea that time is fluid, that it carries things away while the speaker remains inside, observing.

The next stanza moves into a childlike fantasy: “We were going to live in a tree. / We were placing ourselves on a branch / next to the bird with a borrowed voice.” The imagery suggests a retreat into nature, a wish for simplicity or escape. The bird with a “borrowed voice” introduces an element of displacement—perhaps the bird is mimicking sounds from elsewhere, or perhaps it is speaking with a voice not its own, a reflection of the way memory and experience shape identity.

The river, personified with eyes—“one glittering, another filled with sand”—suggests both vision and blindness, presence and obscurity. “The river blinked and blinked. / I should have thought of it.” The speaker’s sudden realization hints at a forgotten or overlooked truth, as if the river, with its ever-changing state, has something to teach about impermanence or perception.

A striking moment follows, in which a man drops his name into a well, commanding it to “float” and “come back to me smarter.” This act suggests a longing for transformation, for self-discovery. The well—a deep, dark space—symbolizes introspection, the unknown, or even the subconscious. The name, falling into that void, becomes a metaphor for losing and regaining identity, for sending a part of oneself into uncertainty and hoping for wisdom in return.

The speaker then resolves, “I will find out where everybody went. / I will break my pencil into two pencils.” These lines hint at a search for lost connections, an attempt to understand absences. The act of breaking a pencil in two suggests both division and creation—perhaps a metaphor for writing, for producing something out of what remains. It is as if by splitting something, the speaker hopes to make sense of what has been lost.

The shift to the meeting place—“We were going to meet for dinner. / At the edge of the forest, the edge of the city.”—introduces liminality. The edge of a forest and the edge of a city represent boundaries between the natural and the constructed, the wild and the familiar. The idea of meeting at such a threshold suggests anticipation, a moment before something either connects or is lost.

The memory of the empty schoolhouse carries a sense of lingering presence. “Once I stood inside an empty schoolhouse / with a fireplace at each end of the long room, / the 1,2,3 still rolling, a small giggle / tucked into the cracks of the wall.” These lines suggest a space once filled with life, now vacant yet still holding traces of the past. The numbers “still rolling” hint at the continuation of time, learning, and echoes of childhood. The giggle in the wall suggests that joy remains imprinted in the structure, even as people have moved on.

The closing image is pastoral and melancholic: “Outside, cows read the slow text of grasses. / Closed their creamy eyes as they ate.” The cows’ slow, deliberate eating is likened to reading, reinforcing the theme of time’s measured passage. The farewell—“Goodby, goodby.”—is understated yet poignant, marking a departure or a letting go.

The final lines introduce a river again, this time with a “gurgling voice,” reinforcing the idea that water, like time, is always in motion, always speaking in ways that may not be fully understood. The act of closing one’s eyes suggests surrender, an acceptance of movement and change. The final image, of “some small person” throwing down a red coat and running away, is enigmatic. It might suggest abandonment, freedom, or an impulsive return to childhood instinct. The coat, left behind, becomes another symbol of absence—something once worn, now discarded.

“In That Time” is a poem that resists a singular interpretation. It lingers in the space between memory and the present, between presence and absence, between knowing and wondering. The poem's shifting images and quiet refrains capture the way certain moments stay with us, while others drift away like the river’s voice. Nye’s language is spare yet resonant, evoking the fleeting nature of experience and the way we continually search for meaning in what is lost.

Copyright (c) 2025 PoetryExplorer

Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!

Other Poems of Interest...