Robert Frost’s poem "Design" initially misleads with its gentle imagery, only to unravel a darker theme as it progresses. He describes a dead spider as "dimpled," a word usually linked to infants and their innocent charm. However, here it signifies an indentation on a bloated, whitened creature, already suggesting something unsettling beneath the surface.

Imagery of Death and Decay

The poem further deepens this unsettling imagery with the heal-all flower, also known as self-heal. Typically vibrant in violet-blue, it appears white in the poem, symbolizing vitality drained away in death. Joining this spectrum of lifelessness is a white moth, reminiscent of the rigid satin linings of coffins and the stiffness of rigor mortis. Frost’s narrator binds these elements with the concept of blight — a motif of decay and annihilation. This triad of the spider, flower, and moth paints a morning ritual that is far from right, teasing a pun on the word "rite," suggesting a dark ceremonial scene akin to a witches' brew.

Pattern of Morbidity

The poem’s octave gradually builds a tapestry of morbidity and decay. The spider’s whiteness is remarked upon again, likened to a snowdrop, an early-blooming flower that also signifies purity turned pale. The phrase "a flower like a froth" connects to the heal-all or the snowdrop, with "froth" possibly meaning more than just foam — potentially alluding to the frothy saliva seen in disease. The dead moth’s wings compared to a paper kite evokes not only the image of a child’s toy but also a bird of prey, and even touches upon Asian funeral customs involving white kites. Through these images, Frost orchestrates a pattern of mortality and decay in the octave.

Contrasting Tone and Conditional Ending

The sestet introduces a brief tonal contrast with words like "wayside," "innocent," and "kindred," which lend a fleeting sense of peace. Yet, Frost shatters this calm by posing a jarring question: "What but design of darkness to appall?" This inquiry injects tension into the poem, signified by the heavily accented word "appall," which means to shock or dismay, having roots in words meaning to grow pale or faint. Such imagery suggests that both the narrator and reader might turn ashen at the realization of the ominous tableau before them. Frost concludes with an unresolved notion, beginning his final line with "If," leaving an open-ended speculation on whether some malevolent force orchestrated the chilling scene.