Get out the microscope, because we’re going through this poem line-by-line.
Lines 4–5
That trim name with
its dream of a bench
- We're not sure anyone's ever described a name as "trim" before, but leave it to Rita Dove to reinvent the (word) wheel. Rosa Parks is a pretty short and modest name. It doesn't have quite the dramatic flair of, say, North West, Blue Ivy Carter, or Apple Blythe Alison Martin.
- Although names don't usually have dreams (well maybe they do, what do we know?), this is a poem, so we're giving Dove a little creative license.
- Maybe it's time to step back from the figurative world where names can dream and back into reality. That "trim" name stands for a very real person (if you've been sleeping for the first part of this lesson, that person is Rosa Parks), and that person is very likely the one with the dream.
- When she writes that the name has a dream, Dove is using something called synecdoche here, a figure of speech where a part is used to represent the whole. For example: "Jerry needs a new set of wheels." The "set of wheels" is standing in for the car in this case.
- Notice how Dove breaks off line 5. There's no punctuation at the end and seems to be lopped off right in the middle of a thought. This is called enjambment. Dove uses it throughout the poem (in lines 2, 4, 5, 8, 10, and 11 to be specific) to carry us along to the next line without closing the door at the end of each line. (Check out "Form and Meter" for more on this technique.)
- Now, the dream of a bench sounds pretty lame (no offense, Rita). But if you think about the power simply sitting down has in this context, and how Rosa Parks is famous for refusing to give up her seat on a bus bench, that dream seems decidedly less lame. It might seem downright radical in fact.
Line 6
to rest on. Her sensible coat.
- The beginning of line 6 finishes up the thought that was brewing from line 4, and hints at the history Rosa Parks' name eventually made. Her name has been figuratively carved in the bus bench from which she refused to get up, and it will "rest" there forever. That's way cooler than any graffiti tag we've ever seen.
- "Her sensible coat." is a completely incomplete sentence. Call the grammar police! And it's a very simple sentence fragment, at that. Dove isn't a flagrant grammar offender. She knows what she's doing, and we're starting to detect a pattern.
- The pattern seems to be made up of a bunch of simple and small things. Take a look. The lines are super-short, usually 4–5 words, and the stanzas are tiny, too. She talks about Parks' "trim" name and her "sensible" coat. Dove is painting a picture of a humble and quiet person—maybe not someone you'd think would have a huge effect on African-American Civil Rights—but though Parks' act might seem small, her impact on history was undeniably powerful. Big things come in small packages (as they, whoever they are, say).