Were the tigers always there?

Adrienne Rich, “Aunt Jennifer’s Tigers”

Aunt Jennifer’s tigers prance across a screen,
Bright topaz denizens of a world of green.
They do not fear the men beneath the tree;
They pace in sleek chivalric certainty.

Aunt Jennifer’s finger fluttering through her wool
Find even the ivory needle hard to pull.
The massive weight of Uncle’s wedding band
Sits heavily upon Aunt Jennifer’s hand.

When Aunt is dead, her terrified hands will lie
Still ringed with ordeals she was mastered by.
The tigers in the panel that she made
Will go on prancing, proud and unafraid.

This was another poem that was discussed in the reading-discussion group that I talked about in my previous post.
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Of interpreted poems

This has spawned from a reading-discussion session that I went to some time ago. The group of people consisted of three of my professors, some of my friends and a few others from my college. It was the first such session that I had ever been to. It was also the first time I sat down and discussed poetry with anyone. I barely read any poetry, the idea of reading in a group and discussing it, especially in the presence of these professors had me unnerved from the start. Continue reading