[revised ... again] New Title: I Will Wave Back

[LynnDoiron]

Barley flags, and oat
wave from untilled destiny,
tilt pregnant on May wind.

Stand me centered in thistles purple
till they burr; sagacity to spare, they
hook a barb to ride the passing hide
of hare, or hair of dogs,
the stiff black lab’s, the shepherd’s tan,
the mongrel damp of strays,
the musk of does with Asian eyes,
their scent, a sword in a scabbord
of cerise-blossomed vetch.

Lean as far out as you’re able, O flax and oat,
with your seeds gone gold that hold green
generations’ stems, roots, leaves, fruit.

And when you pull up from your several thousand bows
to learn I am no more than a mere “she”
wearing a long bone frock with indigo-
printed stems, wearing crepe skin
too thin, now, too hairless to secure
a burr’s barb – I will wave back,
being the sister who stands, unrooted,
reliant on your simple grace.

[wavemaker9 (Rick D.)]

I think I just heard the sound true humility makes when it must speak to keep from bursting. Lynn, this, you, won my heart.
Rick

[mfwilkie]

Chicky,

Spent some time reading this over, and have a few thoughts.

Mugs

Barley flags, and oat
wave from untilled destiny,
tilt pregnant on May wind.

Stand me centered in the amid thistle blooms,
purple till they burr; sagacity
to spare, they hook a barb to ride
the passing hide of hare, or hair of dogs,
the stiff black lab’s, the shepherd’s tan,
the mongrel damp of strays,
the musk of does with Asian eyes,
their scent, like a sword
slashes ing through my browning wilderness,
the of cerise-blossomed vetch, and eucalyptus.

Flags, lean as far out as you’re able
with your seeds gone gold that hold green
generations’ stems, roots, leaves, fruit.

And when you pull up from your several thousand bows
to learn I am no more than a mere “she”
wearing a long bone frock with indigo-
printed stems, wearing crepe skin
too thin, now, too hairless to secure
a burr’s barb – I will wave back,
being the sister who stands, unrooted,
reliant on your simple grace.

[LynnDoiron]

mugs -- i need some cause behind your thoughts on this one. why 'amid' rather than 'in the' --? is the rest of the poem worded on that level to your mind? is it a meter thing? or sound? alliteration or assonance somehow? And slashes for slashing -- is that to get rid of one gerund in the line? i readily admit two in that line is at least one too many. I'm thinking about this:

their scent a sword in a wilderness scabbord of cerise-blossomed vetch, and eucalyptus.

I am interested in the unclothing of the "she" to stand naked in final stanza. Not quite prepared to strip her bare, but am inclined to think I will. The reason I put the frock in at all was to suggest we are all made of the same stuff, one way and another, stems and seeds and such. You give me much to consider. thanks.

[Ron Wallace (Scotshawk)]

I like the idea of the sword in a wilderness scabbard. I'd just cut that article "the" before "thistle" instead of swapping out for "amid" although I don't mind the voice that carries "amid" through the line.
Must admit I also like the sound of the disappeared "your" in stanza three, but as always this simply sings for me as it is. Ron

[mfwilkie]

The more I read this the more I found the 'frocked she' as an intrusion on the V, Chicky.

I chose 'amid' for pacing the line and for sound.
It's a softer word, and brings more strength to the image of centered in thistle blooms.

later,

Mugs

[Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47]

The amber waves of grain, the purple (in the same vein as mountains' majesty) and the humility of a beautiful being, aware in the knowledge of human frailty...............humbly salutes herself in different form.

This touched me deeply, Lynn....Nature rejoices with me.

[LynnDoiron]

thank you, jon.

mugs, could be the voice of the poem is completely off to what meaning I wanted there. I feel like to remove the unnatural from the natural changes intent. Not saying it works as is, but would rather change voice to meet the idea of clothed in artifice [there's a strugge in me and I want some hint of it in the poem]. Did trim away some excess I think in revision. Thanks for looking again.

[Ron Buck (halfshell)]

have had the pleasure of going thru this one several times, moves very nicely, the sense and sensing of time and nature cling beautifully to the skin of the work... I only question the opening as standing in the way and would just be most content without it.

just a thought... as always a thought provoking and well crafted work.

tidings
ron

[Sherry Thrasher]

Nice internal rhyming. Beautiful poem.

[purplejacket]

So many points of loveliness, but there are a few things...

The piece is mostly about the thistles, so starting with oats and barley throws me off and doesn't work for me. Can you make the thistles the flags? Actually, not sure why flags? My first thought was to just drop the first stanza, but I wouldn't want to lose the pregnancy because it plays so well against the mention of future generations.

The sword and the cerise bring both sex & blood to mind, and a hint of the violence of birth. This alongside the flag thing insinuates to me some undercurrent - maybe your child has gone to war.

Not sure about both waving and bowing - one or the other I think would be more solid.

I don't think the last line is necessary.

Love the parallel of you wearing that indigo print.

[LynnDoiron]

I'm thinking about that final line; leaning towards losing it. Thank you, pj, for all your comments. I had already deleted the opening stanza from this on another site. The sword is just the sword of aging

or the reversal, sort of, of aging, the sword of new life stabbing into the aging one who stands in their bone frock . . . Open to suggestions. Thanks, muchly and hugely -- me

p.s. thank you, ron and sherry and everyone -- you have all been so helpful and sometimes overly kind!