If I Stood – Reviewed
a monument still and silent,
situated on the shoreline,
I might become aware
of how midnight blue dissolves
…
You may find the rest of the poem here.
If I Stood
© Merril D. Smith and Yesterday and Today
© by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes
Claude Monet, Cliffs of Etretat
Analysis
“If I Stood” takes a painting and turns it into something to be felt, something that moves beyond just looking. It is about stillness, but not the kind that is empty or lifeless. The poem imagines standing in one place, unmoving like the cliffs in Monet’s Cliffs of Étretat, and instead of describing the rock itself, it focuses on everything changing around it—the shifting sky, the movement of the sea, the way light transforms darkness.
At first, the poem is solid, like a foundation. “A monument still and silent” is the starting point, something that does not move while everything else does. It feels heavy, like something that has been in place for a long time. Monet’s cliffs have that same weight, shaped by time but not changed in an instant. The idea of being a monument makes it seem like the speaker wants to be part of that stillness, to see what happens when they do not move.
Then the change begins. “Midnight blue dissolves into azure then cyan.” The colors do not shift suddenly—they dissolve, like something melting. It is a slow process, the way a deep, dark sauce spreads over something lighter, or the way a night sky fades into morning. The word “dissolves” makes it feel natural, like it was always going to happen this way. This mirrors Monet’s painting, where no color is solid or flat, but everything blends together.
The poem does not just describe what is seen. It moves into sensation. “Brightening the black caves of the mind” makes the change feel internal, as if the way the light spreads across the sky also reaches inside. The cliffs in Monet’s painting have deep shadows, places where light does not reach, but in the poem, those dark spaces are being opened up. It is like the way a rich, bitter flavor can make something sweet stand out more—contrast making the experience more vivid.
Sound enters next. “Sea-sough serenades” makes the waves feel like part of the atmosphere, not something loud or crashing but something rhythmic, like the soft fizz of carbonation or the quiet crispness of a thin layer of sugar breaking under a spoon. The word “sough” gives it a breath-like quality, something that fills the space without overwhelming it. It is a background presence, shaping the scene without taking focus.
The poem builds upward. “An infinity of wave-curls” suggests something delicate, continuous, like soft swirls on the surface of water or the carefully layered peaks of a dessert. “Spindrift flying” adds lightness, movement that does not stay in one place. This is not a static image but one full of motion, even though the speaker remains still.
Then the final image: “the sky of blueberries and cream.” The painting, the moment, the entire scene becomes something almost edible, something that could be tasted. The blues and whites of the sky are not just colors—they have a texture, a richness, like a dish carefully put together to balance depth and softness. It changes the way the whole poem feels. This is not just about looking at a painting or a landscape; it is about experiencing it with more than just sight.
Throughout the poem, there is a balance between movement and stillness, between weight and lightness. The cliffs are steady, but the world around them is always shifting. The poem does not tell the reader what to take from this—it simply shows the transformation, the way awareness changes what is seen. It does not rush, does not force meaning. It lingers, letting colors shift, letting sound settle, letting stillness be something full rather than empty. By the end, the speaker has not moved, but everything around them has changed.
Photo by Laurent Gence on Unsplash
