08-14-2023, 11:27 PM
Hello Lizzie-
Since I am a known fan of brevity, it is usually my tendency to say "cut, cut, cut." But instead I'll try to offer suggestions otherwise.
Mom was at the kitchen sink, sweating
and snipping beans. Her lips pursed,
then she asked you where you'd been. This stanza could occur closer to the end, though it does work as an intro.
You'd wandered off again, down the lane
the tractors made as they rolled through the fields.
You'd followed their tracks to the hill
where the ferns and the trillium grew, At 13, seeking independence...
checked the ground for poison ivy, .. yet still reminded of those childhood warnings
then sat down and wondered why.
Why your palms were still moving.
Why your head swayed without wind.
Why you had goosebumps in the middle of summer. Exploring your body
Why shade hurt your eyes. The repetition of 'why' is a bit overdone.
The trillium bloomed every year in May,
but white to purple took only a week— the transition of girl to young woman
a floral Brigadoon.
The tall corn covered you from the sun
on the way back, like a boyfriend might
drape his arms around a girl. Hmm? Perhaps a little more subtle, as I'm guessing she doesn't have a boyfriend yet
The gentle scrapes of their rough leaves
felt real as beds and dinner plates.
The door to the kitchen opened itself;
another person's arm pulled the handle. These lines seem superfluous
Mom didn't care where you'd been
or whether your hands were real, Or that you may have started your period, or were 'investigating', is what I think you're implying.
only that they could shell a bushel of peas.
How to tell her that she didn't have a child? I suggest placing these lines at the end. To me they are the essence of the poem.
She'd steamed the life out of those beans.
Since I am a known fan of brevity, it is usually my tendency to say "cut, cut, cut." But instead I'll try to offer suggestions otherwise.
Mom was at the kitchen sink, sweating
and snipping beans. Her lips pursed,
then she asked you where you'd been. This stanza could occur closer to the end, though it does work as an intro.
You'd wandered off again, down the lane
the tractors made as they rolled through the fields.
You'd followed their tracks to the hill
where the ferns and the trillium grew, At 13, seeking independence...
checked the ground for poison ivy, .. yet still reminded of those childhood warnings
then sat down and wondered why.
Why your palms were still moving.
Why your head swayed without wind.
Why you had goosebumps in the middle of summer. Exploring your body
Why shade hurt your eyes. The repetition of 'why' is a bit overdone.
The trillium bloomed every year in May,
but white to purple took only a week— the transition of girl to young woman
a floral Brigadoon.
The tall corn covered you from the sun
on the way back, like a boyfriend might
drape his arms around a girl. Hmm? Perhaps a little more subtle, as I'm guessing she doesn't have a boyfriend yet
The gentle scrapes of their rough leaves
felt real as beds and dinner plates.
The door to the kitchen opened itself;
another person's arm pulled the handle. These lines seem superfluous
Mom didn't care where you'd been
or whether your hands were real, Or that you may have started your period, or were 'investigating', is what I think you're implying.
only that they could shell a bushel of peas.
How to tell her that she didn't have a child? I suggest placing these lines at the end. To me they are the essence of the poem.
She'd steamed the life out of those beans.