This is girlie, but I think you guys can handle it. Can you understand it?

A White Crown




I knew I had arrived

the day I asked my hairdresser

to razor-cut my hair

into a no-fuss, short and sassy

pixie-do and to not add color.

A brave moment. I wondered

if I could pull it off. Snow hair

was as natural to me as cottonwoods

bending in the wind. But coloring

the white was my habit, like autumn

flaunts boldness on trees in October.



I’m no Medusa, you understand,

but on that brave day a dance

was going on within me: I told

my hair it could stay as it was, laugh,

slither, become striking, but to stay soft

and touchable. Quite suddenly,

I could see my winter hair as maiden

snow on a mountaintop, or better yet,

a white crown.



However, a crown of this sort

means something: it means

I’m growing old. That fact though—

once exposed, once accepted—

gave me full permission

to cook a fish whole over coals,

to name clouds,

to waste time searching for an ant

in petals of a peony.



Thanks, Pat

Pat...I think you are growing leaps and bounds with your line breaks...YES!

I think you can now go to the poem for another version, since this one works fine.

Try one that doesn't "tell" the story. Trust the reader. Here's an example: " it means

I’m growing old." I love the ending of the poem but got "lost" in the narration of the story.

Thanks again for sharing...

 

Pat,  I think it could have been more compact.  You tend to put more fluff than I think necessary.  Maybe too many metaphors.  I think you try to make poems too long. The last para could have started with the statement "Hey, I'm growing old." You are trying to tell the reader what the crown means. We know.  The rest of the things you talk about and what you could do now that you have time is good. Good poem, though. 

Pat, I like this poem. Read it to Elsa and she loved it. She said, "I can hear Pat talking." Here are a few landscaping remarks that might help tighten this poem a bit:

flaunting instead of flaunts... delete or better yet... was my habit is a weak spot...

try A crown of this sort means I'm growing old...

among petals, not in petals...

Pat, this piece might be heavy in metaphors early on... they can lead the reader astray. But overall I think this poem is indicative of your style... a very succussful style as your publication record attests. (Gad, where is spell-check on my machine?)

Dewell

Helpful input. That's what I need. That's why I do this.

I will tend to your poems sometime today. Later, Pat