I Promised

I Promised
 
Young, but I knew not to keep
the story from adults.
 
Why didn’t I just gallop off
or change the topic?
Life or death, not a question here.
 
One day I’d be making bigger promises
at baptism, at a wedding, at home 
to children.
 
But there was this awkward weight
in this unsighted second.
I had to say yes or no,
so I promised.
 
The promise
turned into a millstone.
 
It’s a new day,
but I can feel a lump grow in my throat
when someone asks me 
to promise.

Pat

I am not sure what the promise was or when it was offered.  I am not sure to whom it was offered.  Those seem like significant details.  Can you offer a hint in a revision rather than tell me the detail in a response?

For me, the energy of the poem is stanza 3.  I lobby for it to be either the first or last of the poem.

Todd

I'm trying to say little about the specifics of the promise because I'm hoping the reader will fill-in the blanks with his/her own experiences. 




I Promised
 
Young, but I knew not to keep
the story my brother told me 
from my parents.

 
Why didn’t I just gallop off
or change the topic?
Life or death, not a question here.
 


But there was this awkward weight
in this unsighted second.
I had to say yes or no,
so I promised.



My promise
turned into a millstone. 



I can feel a lump grow in my throat
when someone asks me to promise.



One day I'd be making big promises
at baptism, at a wedding, at home.

I Promised
 
Young, but I knew not to keep  (this stanza still reads choppy)
the story my brother told me 
from my parents.

Why didn’t I just gallop off
or change the topic?
Not life or death, 

but an awkward weight
in this unsighted second.  (not sure how to process "unsighted second")
I had to say yes or no,

so I promised. My promise
turned into a millstone. 
I feel a lump in my throat

when someone asks me to promise.
One day I'd be making big promises
like baptism, like a wedding, like at home.

A Promise

Though I was young, I knew better 
than to keep my brother's story 

from our parents. Why didn’t I 
just gallop off or change the topic?

. . . not life or death, 
but an awkward weight

lasting for an eternal second . . .
I had to say yes or no,

so I promised. My promise
turned to a millstone. 

One day I'll feel a lump in my throat
when expected to promise.

One day I'll be making big promises
like baptism, like a wedding, like at home.

I'll read it again  tomorrow.    Thank you!!!!

Pat