Second Draft: Morning Goddesses

Photo by Karl Magnuson on Unsplash

I am working through a revision of this poem and I am wondering: have I made it worse? This is the process of revision for me. To walk around the blind corner and trust that I can find my way back if I need to. Even if the birds eat the bread crumbs or someone washes away the chalk marks of the trail I left, I can find my way to something — as long as I keep moving.

Here is the first draft:

And here is the revision (as it stands today):

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedI. MaidenIllness found her in her youth and got comfortable awhile. Weeks out from surgery,she recovered with an eight mile walka five day fasta set to her jaw that would not release.Only her eyes know she isconfused by a body that keeps sending her the message:Stop. Allow yourself to grieve.Part of you is gone forever.II. MotherUnder eye circles the same blue as the new mother's eyes, shoulders curved forward, shaped around her infant's body.She just wants to open up her back,to move againto know the swinging of her whole armin unconscious freedom.III. CroneAlone in a show-ready house, shefell backward in her bathtub,broke her fall with a shelf,counts herself luckyas she struggles to breathe through the pain in her ribs.Tries not to think of the way her body moves now --like an old woman.