Before starting as a college freshman four years ago, I dreaded the thought of reading and writing poetry. In my mind, poetry was this mysterious genre that didn’t have a clear and blatant message. It was up to the reader to determine what the writing meant. I kept thinking, “What is the point? What is the point if the author can’t pick out or notice the moral or the meaning behind the writing when they initially read it?” I later realized that is the whole point of poetry. It is meant to be beautifully ambiguous, so that its readers can determine what it means for themselves. There are always more than one way to interpret well-written poetry. So, I thought I would try a little exercise for this post, and I am going to do a short interpretation/analysis of the poem Florist’s Root Cellar by Theodore Roetheke. I see the theme of this poem as Survival/Struggle because of lines 9-11. “Leaf-mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks. Nothin...