Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained

Anne Sexton’s poem "Waiting Head" is a haunting meditation on memory, guilt, and the lingering presence of a loved one who has passed away. Through the imagery of a "waiting head" seen at a window, Sexton delves into the complexities of grief and the way the past can continue to haunt the living. The poem explores the tension between the speaker’s attempts to move forward and the inescapable pull of memories that refuse to fade.

The poem opens with the speaker describing a seemingly mundane action: "If I am really walking with ordinary habit / past the same rest home on the same local street." The repetition of "same" emphasizes the routine nature of the speaker’s walk, suggesting that this is a path they have taken many times before. However, the sight of the "waiting head at that upper front window" disrupts this ordinary habit, pulling the speaker back into a past that they may have tried to avoid. The head, "just as she would always sit," evokes the memory of a woman who used to sit at that window, watching and waiting for visitors who rarely came.

The woman’s vigil at the window is a symbol of her loneliness and isolation, as well as her desperate hope for connection. The speaker recalls how "each night she wrote in her leather books / that no one came," capturing the deep sadness of her unfulfilled longing. The image of her "fingers curled on mine" suggests moments of intimacy and connection, yet the speaker also admits to having "avoid[ed] this street," revealing a sense of guilt or discomfort associated with those memories. The woman, who "lived on and on like a bleached fig," embodies a kind of slow decay, her life stretched out in a state of perpetual waiting until she "forgot us anyhow."

The speaker’s visits to the woman are marked by a sense of duty rather than genuine affection: "visiting the pulp of her kiss, bending to repeat / each favor." The use of the word "pulp" conveys a sense of something that has lost its vitality, reduced to a soft, almost formless state. This, combined with the description of trying to "comb out her mossy wig," evokes a sense of futility in the speaker’s efforts to care for her, as if the woman has already begun to slip away into a state of forgetfulness and decay. The phrase "forcing love to last" highlights the struggle to maintain a connection that has become strained and difficult, perhaps even more out of obligation than desire.

Now that the woman is "always dead," the speaker is left with her "leather books," a tangible reminder of her loneliness and the many nights she recorded her sorrow. The books, now in the speaker’s possession, symbolize the weight of memory and the unresolved emotions tied to the past. As the speaker walks by the rest home and sees the head "move, like some pitted angel, in that high window," the boundaries between past and present, memory and reality, begin to blur. The head "looks the same," suggesting that the woman’s presence, or the memory of her, remains unchanged even after death.

The poem reaches a chilling conclusion as the speaker wonders, "Will it lean forward as I turn to go?" This question underscores the speaker’s deep unease, as if the ghostly figure might reach out to them, pulling them back into the past. The final lines, "I think I hear it call to me below / but no one came no one came," repeat the woman’s tragic refrain, emphasizing the loneliness and abandonment she felt in life. The repetition of "no one came" not only reinforces the sadness of her unfulfilled hope but also suggests that the speaker is now haunted by the very absence they once contributed to.

"Waiting Head" by Anne Sexton is a powerful exploration of how the past can continue to influence and disturb the present. The poem’s imagery and tone capture the weight of guilt and the persistence of memory, revealing how the emotional ties we form in life can linger long after those we loved are gone. Through the figure of the "waiting head" at the window, Sexton illustrates the inescapable nature of grief and the way it can resurface, even in the most ordinary moments, to remind us of the connections we failed to honor fully. The poem ultimately leaves the reader with a sense of unresolved sorrow, as the speaker remains trapped between the desire to move on and the haunting pull of the past.

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