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Poem by Elizabeth Bishop


View of the Capitol from the Library of Congress


Moving from left to left, the light
is heavy on the Dome, and coarse.
One small lunette turns it aside
and blankly stares off to the side
like a big white old wall-eyed horse.

On the east steps the Air Force Band
in uniforms of Air Force blue
is playing hard and loud, but--queer--
the music doesnt quite come through.

It comes in snatches, dim then keen,
then mute, and yet there is no breeze.
The giant trees stand in between.
I think the trees must intervene,

catching the music in their leaves
like gold-dust, till each big leaf sags.
Unceasingly the little flags
feed their limp stripes into the air,
and the bands efforts vanish there.

Great shades, edge over,
give the music room.
The gathered brasses want to go
boom--boom.



Elizabeth Bishop


Elizabeth Bishop's other poems:
  1. Visits to St. Elizabeths
  2. The Man-Moth
  3. At the Fishhouses
  4. Strayed Crab
  5. The Burglar of Babylon


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