mother

[cjchaffin]

I think the edit was a big improvement. I don't remember if I read this when it was first posted, but you do a good job now of showing her larger then lifeness, where as the original falls a bit short. The poem made me think of my mom and her mortality. Its fun and nostalgic at first and more somber towards the end. The beginning is great because its so personal, but still relatable, where as the end feels a bit more cliche. The boney shoulders/white hair are something very archetypical of old age, I would like to see something more like the story at the start, but maybe thats just me. I enjoyed the read thnx 4 sharing. ima hug my mom next time I see her. Left 2cents below.

edit #1:
My mother was a warrior,
wielding wooden spoons
like weapons of mass construction. Read as destruction then realized it was construction, and giggled. Funny funny
 
We four would tug on her apron, We four is concise but feels a bit unnatural. Maybe if I read it once I wouldn't notice but reading this line closely I cant get past it.
tell her how pretty she was
so we could have more pancakes.
 
She would laugh and chase us
down the hall, a giantess
with crazy wood appendages. I like this stanza a lot. Between this one and the last you capture a particular playful child/mother relationship very well. Reminds me of when I played  with my mom as a kid, and the silly moments we still have occasionally. I'm not sure if crazy is the best adjective, it works but I wonder if something else couldn't be more specific IDK  Same with giantess I do like that that it emphasizes the femininity of your mom, but wonder if giant would be just as effective. The archtypical image of giant is probably male, but I did slow down for a second to understand giantess.
 
Now she is simply small and fragile, I think this shift could be a lot more elegant if you started the stanza with an image to show how small she is, like you do with the giant story. Taking an image from your last stanza you could start this one like "Now I pull a blanket over bony shoulders" 
spoons at rest, hands clutching an afghan.
She naps in the heat of the day, Really like this line, not entirely sure why. Something about the fatigue required to sleep in day and heat, or maybe the fact that she is so scheduless she can sleep in the day, or maybe the image of the sun beating down on her idk idk
dreaming of her own warrior mother;
I pull the blanket over bony shoulders
and push silver hair behind her ear.
original:
I used to think of her
as being larger than life—
beautiful in her righteous anger,
frightening with her quiet, resounding stares—
a warm, comforting shell
filled with cool, steely resolve.
She was so many different adjectives
and I could fill pages describing her.
Now she is simply small and fragile,
asleep on the couch with a thin afghan.
She naps in the heat of the day
and dreams of her own mother.
She smiles with her eyes closed
as I pull the blanket over bony shoulders,
push silver hair behind her ear.

thanks makeshift. i'm glad you were able to connect with this, and you pinpointed some of the areas that i still want to strengthen. thanks so much for taking the time to read and critique, it's very helpful!