![]() |
Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained | |||
Howard Moss's poem "Water Island" is a poignant elegy to a friend who drowned in April 1960. Through its reflective and evocative language, the poem explores themes of loss, memory, nature, and the inexorable passage of time. Moss uses the imagery of water, a central motif, to convey both the beauty and the brutality of the natural world, while also delving into the profound impact of the friend's death on those left behind. The poem begins with a stark statement of absence: "Finally, from your house, there is no view; / The bay's blind mirror shattered over you." This line sets the tone for the entire poem, emphasizing the irrevocable loss and the sense of emptiness that follows. The "bay's blind mirror" suggests a once clear and reflective surface now broken, symbolizing both the physical shattering of water and the emotional shattering caused by the friend's death. Moss describes the retrieval of the friend's body in a manner that highlights the indifference of nature: "And Patchogue took your body like a log / The wind rolled up to shore." The simile here underscores the dehumanizing force of the elements, reducing a person to an object tossed about by wind and water. This portrayal of nature as both beautiful and cruel runs throughout the poem, creating a tension between admiration and horror. The line "The senseless drowned / Have faces nobody would care to see" further emphasizes the harsh reality of death by drowning. Yet, Moss contrasts this grim image with the idea that "water loves those gradual erasures / Of flesh and shoreline, greenery and glass." Here, water is depicted as a force of erosion and transformation, which, despite its destructiveness, is also a part of a natural cycle that integrates and obliterates. The connection between the friend and the water is deeply personal: "And you belonged to water, it to you." This reciprocal relationship suggests a unity and acceptance of fate, as if the friend's life and death were intertwined with the natural world he inhabited. The house he built "on a hillock, above the bay" is not just a dwelling but a testament to his bond with the water, further emphasized by the enduring natural phenomena that continue around the now-empty house. Moss introduces the image of the horseshoe crabs, ancient creatures whose "couplings far more ancient than the eyes / That watched them from your porch." The crabs' long history and resilience serve as a metaphor for endurance and the continuity of life despite individual loss. One crab, in particular, is described with a poetic depth: "Whose back was a history of how we live; / Grown onto every inch of plate, except / Where the hinges let it move, were living things." This detailed observation reflects on the accumulation of life's experiences and attachments, symbolized by the barnacles, mussels, and water weeds. The "one / Blue bit of polished glass, glued there by time" becomes a symbol of art and beauty forged through endurance. In the latter part of the poem, Moss shifts focus to the living world that continues despite the friend's absence. The "skimmming traffic lights, starboard and port," and the "faint stars / Lining the border of Long Island's shore" evoke a serene yet melancholic nighttime landscape, highlighting the enduring presence of light and life. However, the poet acknowledges the uncertainty of who can witness these sights now, given the friend's death. The natural world around the friend's home also reflects his absence: "Wild roses, at your back porch, break their blood," symbolizing both beauty and the persistence of life. The birds that "fly over, gliding down to feed / At the two feeding stations you set out with seed" and the "big bowl of rain / You used to fill with water" are tender reminders of the friend's care and presence. The poem concludes with a somber reflection on the circumstances of the friend's death: "Going across / That night, too fast, too dark, no one will know." The final sounds the friend might have heard, "the cry of the savage and endemic gull," evoke a sense of finality and the indiscriminate nature of death. The image of the heron "Standing in a stillness that now is yours" encapsulates the poem's meditation on death and the enduring stillness it brings. In "Water Island," Howard Moss uses vivid and evocative imagery to capture the complex interplay between life, death, and the natural world. The poem is a moving tribute to a lost friend, reflecting on the beauty and brutality of nature, the passage of time, and the enduring impact of memory and loss. Through his masterful use of language and imagery, Moss creates a deeply resonant elegy that speaks to the universal experience of grief and the ways in which we remember those we have lost.
| Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARGARET'S SPEECH by NORMAN DUBIE NOT THE CUCKOLD'S DREAM; FOR SAM PEREIRA by NORMAN DUBIE REVELATION 20:11-15 by NORMAN DUBIE THE DUN COW AND THE HAG by NORMAN DUBIE FUGUE FOR A DROWNED GIRL by JAMES GALVIN TO W.P.: 1 by GEORGE SANTAYANA DROWNING ON THE PAMET RIVER by GERALD STERN AGAIN I FIND YOU by RUTH STONE |
|