?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Transition

This one is for those of a certain age (advanced), because sometimes it gets to you.  And if you're under 30 you might want to avoid reading it at all.  It might be too depressing. 

  
Transition

I don't want to be the crone.  Yes,
I'm done with motherhood, they're gone,
But why can't I go back to maiden,
Why can't I have my life again?
I'd do it so much better now.
This cloth's too dull.  Unravel it
And let me start it over?
I'm surer now of colours
And bolder in design.  It would be
Beautiful.  Stunning.  A masterwork.
Instead of this dull draggy thing.
I'd spin it of gold and ivory,
Of silver and sapphires,
Of the Parrish-pink clouds at sunset
And that particular green-blue
The sky turns after.
I'm not wise enough for crone.
I can't take the responsibility
Of cutting threads.  It was bad enough,
The measurement, the ekeing out
Of time, of funds, of love,
Never sure if I was giving enough
Or shorting them their due.
It's over now, for good or ill,
I did my best.  And now?
I'm not old enough for crone!
She's wrinkled, shrunken, horrid,
I won't be her, not yet!
Let me go back to maiden.
It wasn't that long ago?
I still remember.  Please.
Can't you remember?

Let's try some minor edits...

Transition

I don't want to be the crone.  Yes,
I'm done with motherhood, they're gone,
But why can't I go back to maiden,
Why can't I have my life again?
I'd do it so much better now.
This cloth's too dull.  Unravel it
And let me start it over?
I'm surer now of colours
And bolder in design.  It would be
Beautiful.  Stunning.  A masterwork.
I'd spin it of gold and ivory,
Of silver and chalcedony,
Of the Parrish-pink clouds of sunset
And that peculiar green-blue
The sky turns after,
Of the white hairs of black cats,
Of the dirt under my nails.
I'm not wise enough for crone.
I can't take the responsibility
Of cutting threads.  It was bad enough,
The measurement, the ekeing out
Of time, of funds, of love,
Never sure if I were giving enough
Or shorting them their due.
It's over now, for good or ill,
I did my best.  And now?
I'm not old enough for crone!
She's wrinkled, shrunken, horrid,
I won't be her, not yet!
Let me go back to maiden.
It wasn't that long ago.
I still remember.  Please.
Can't you remember?
   

Tags: