Analysis of Ironed Out
I am still scrubbing the dark splash of wine
That you tipped over my white dress last night.
Silence is wrung, and hangs on the clothesline
And on stitched lips, but we’d rather close sight.
The fabric rips, and the sound crackles through,
And my cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.
Your calloused hands hovered mine, and I knew
That this white taffeta was ours to mend.
So we folded silence with our laughter,
Sorted past white and colored misgivings,
Smoothed the folds and creases with our banter,
And hemmed and sewed all of our loose endings,
Because if wine had to stain me once more,
I’d go through it again just to be yours.
Scheme | ABABCDCEFGFGHI |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1111001111 1111011111 101101101 0111111011 0101001101 0111110100 1101101011 11110011011 11101011010 1011010010 10101011010 01011110110 0111111111 1111011111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 640 |
Words | 124 |
Sentences | 5 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 14 |
Lines Amount | 14 |
Letters per line (avg) | 36 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 505 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 115 |
About this poem
The prompt was: write about a chore you hate. I decided to turn it into love.
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Written on September 23, 2021
Submitted by vanessa.esguerra on August 23, 2022
Modified on March 18, 2023
- 37 sec read
- 89 Views
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"Ironed Out" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 11 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/136094/ironed-out>.
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