10 minute writing assignment: revised twice

I enjoy re-visioning (not editing). It’s fascinating to see where a poem will lead you, if you let it. It helps to play with words, with sounds, with punctuation: change happens. The following poem changed meaning from the draft to the second revision: suddenly the grandmother was no longer thinking about kisses from former lovers, but from her mother-did her mother kiss her, did she kiss her mother-these thoughts triggered by the way her grandson, who has autism, kisses her by not physically kissing her, but by her kissing him.

This poem is far from completion.

Any comments about your process of revision welcomed.

Give Grandma a Kiss
for Ethan

I always wear mauve lipstick, give
Grandma a kiss

he leans in, all 2 1/2 years of him,
knowing more than I know
after 67 years not knowing
if my mother kissed me.

He leans in without hesitation,
silent, vulnerable.
I mark his tender forehead with a temporary
tattoo: my kiss his kiss. Like no kiss
I can remember.

give grandma a kiss

His heart organic, knowing what it is
to hold breath a millisecond; a mime
needing to be understood.

give grandma a kiss

Grandma wants to see underneath
his innocence, to reach what she lost;
she was a girl afraid to speak.

give grandma a kiss

Later, my daughter-in-law, the nurse,
questions what she thinks is a scratch
on his forehead;
how has he hurt himself this time?

The hurt is mine. The gift: unwrapped,
visible, transparent.

©Sherry Lee
June 11, 2015
Second revision

Give Grandma a Kiss
for Ethan

I always wear mauve lipstick, give
Grandma a kiss—

He leans in, all seven years of him, knowing
more than I know
after 67 years, and thousands of kisses.

He leans in, without hesitation, vulnerable.
I mark his tender forehead with a temporary
tattoo. My kiss his kiss. Like no kiss
a man has given me. Words
not necessary language. His way
of love, spontaneous, silent

give grandma a kiss

a heart organic, knowing what it is
to hold breath a millisecond; a mime
needing to be understood.

give grandma a kiss

Grandma wants to see underneath
the innocence, to reach what she lost
or never experienced.

give grandma a kiss

Later, my daughter-in-law, the nurse,
questions what she thinks is a scratch;
how has he hurt himself this time?

The hurt is mine; the gift unwrapped,
visible, transparent.

©Sherry Lee
May 25, 2015
First revision

The Kiss, More Than a Kiss

I always wear mauve lipstick, give
Grandma a kiss
He leans in, all seven years of him, knowing
more than I know after
67 years of thousands of kisses.
He leans in, without hesitation. I
mark his brown forehead with a temporary
tattoo. My kiss his kiss. Like no kiss
a man has given me. Words not
necessary language. His way
of love, spontaneous, silent

a heart organic, knowing what it is
to hold breath a millisecond; a mime
not needing to be understood.

But Grandma wants to see underneath
the innocence, to reach what she lost
or never experienced.

Later, my daughter-in-law, the nurse,
questions what she thinks is a scratch;
how has he hurt himself this time?

The hurt is mine; the gift unwrapped,
visible, transparent.

©Sherry Lee
May 19, 2015
Draft

About Sherry

Author. Poet. Teacher. Mentor. Chinese/Blackbird.

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