Windchime

Windchime

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By Tony Hoagland

She goes out to hang the windchime 

in her nightie and her work boots. 

It’s six-thirty in the morning 

and she’s standing on the plastic ice chest 

tiptoe to reach the crossbeam of the porch, 

windchime in her left hand, 

hammer in her right, the nail 

gripped tight between her teeth 

but nothing happens next because 

she’s trying to figure out 

how to switch #1 with #3. 

She must have been standing in the kitchen, 

coffee in her hand, asleep, 

when she heard it—the wind blowing 

through the sound the windchime 

wasn’t making 

because it wasn’t there. 

No one, including me, especially anymore believes 

till death do us part, 

but I can see what I would miss in leaving— 

the way her ankles go into the work boots 

as she stands upon the ice chest; 

the problem scrunched into her forehead; 

the little kissable mouth 

with the nail in it.

I like this poem because it is someone just making observations of a normal task his lover is doing, but you can tell based on how he talks about her how much he loves her. I also like that the female is performing a stereotypically male task of hanging something up, using a hammer and a nail. Many love stories, songs and poems describe a powerful man saving the day for a helpless girl, but instead, this guy knows his girl has it covered. The setting of this poem is very natural also. The subject of the poem is not trying to impress or capture the attention of the poet. 

Expressing your love for someone through dramatic metaphors and emotional tangents can be lovely, but I prefer unprompted, real declarations of love. The poem also talks about what he would miss about this woman if they were no longer together, but he does not admit dependence on her. Windchimes shows us a couple who are not in the honeymoon phase, madly and uncontrollably in love, but rather, an inside peek at "just another day" of a strong, healthy couple