An Older Woman's Regret

Hi!

First of all, thank you for posting this! It's really good. I read somewhere that a good poem is one that changes where you stand on things, and this definitely does that. Well... maybe several other things have helped change me as well in this direction, but this poem was beautiful and startling and helped me feel better about things.

First of all! I love the part about cold trophies on the shelf. As a society, we are in so much of a rush to "earn" things and collect things. Yet, at the same time, we are so much in a rush that we really don't have a chance to enjoy the things that we might have earned. So, sometimes it really does feel like these things that we "won" are just mere things that we collect and put on the shelf and then ignore.

I love, love, love the picture of the dusty womb, and I love, love, love the contrasting image of the empty house. Perhaps it's more poignant to me as a woman and wife? I see that others don't really like it! But, I just returned from visiting my sister-in-law with her three children, and came back home to my empty house (husband hasn't come home yet!) and... as much as I enjoy being in my house, it does seem much more empty and less warm without the three screaming young children running around and being crazy. They are so close to my heart, and they make me desire to be a mother, even though (by watching them!) I know that it's not going to be easy at all. Still, there is so much life and vivacity to them.

And perhaps it's even more poignant to me because I have been told over and over again that you only have children when you "earn" enough. Only then do you deserve children! But, there's never enough to earn, and by the time that you may be ready, or may have given up on trying to earn enough, sometimes it's too late and you're already too old to have children. I have noticed in papers, such as the Wall Street Journal, more articles about older women who are struggling with fertility, and some of those articles are so heart-wrenching.

And then... the final line is beautiful. Because, really, this is all about "earning" enough. And... when you have "earned" enough (yet have nothing really tangible to speak of) ... have you really won?

I don't think the possible interpretation of the trophies being the kids particularly works, by the way, because children have a way of bringing life to things, even if they leave the house. My parents' house is empty of children now, but they are invigorated by the things that we do and are excited to hear of what's going on with our lives. It keeps them on their toes!

My only comment is that it almost looks like you were intending to make a haiku, but then you didn't, because your syllable count is not right in the first line (six syllables instead of five!) But it's such a minor thing, so it's not that big.

Anyway! Good poem. I actually liked it! Which, believe it or not, really doesn't happen a lot...

Beautiful. Honestly, stunningly beautiful. Don't change a thing

Short and sweet. I like it.

I like the symbolism behind these lines. I kind of feel like the narrator has worked most of her younger (teenage to adulthood) life to earn those trophies, and made a lot of sacrifices to get them, and now that she has them all these years later she looks around at her empty house and realizes that this is all she has to show for her life, and eventually the trophies will break and nothing will be left of her.

I was reminded of a quote from the Disney Pixar movie, Cars that I think is appropriate.

Lightning: You won the championship three times, look at those trophies!!

Doc: You look. All I see is a bunch of empty cups.

Not meh, not meh at all!
'Dusty womb and empty house' encapsulates the conflict that almost every woman struggles with, when she seeks 'trophies'. And the regret evoked between the cold metal and question is so powerful.

There is nothing to add, nothing to emphasize.

Thank you!

Such and emotional poem. Beautiful! I love the simplicity and remorseful feel. This poem speaks so much of sadness. I really cannot find a thing to be changed. You have great talent! Please keep writing--I hope to read more of your work.

Wonderful.
~Rainn

Hey there! I like this. It leaves this haunting reverberation after a read that I am very fond of. This'll be a quick review, so don't get your hopes up too much!

To begin with, I can understand the symbolism of trophies sitting on a shelf: competitions (not necessarily athletic) and awards that have required dedication throughout years of discipline, contests that take utter focus. So the reader can take this line in a meta sense and apply it to their lives each day: the things that take our focus from friends, from family, from lovers. We do this every single day, and it's such a habit that we probably don't even realize it until the first layer of dust has settled on our 'womb'. I personally would've gone with heart, since a dusty womb lends itself to inactive sexuality more than inactive affections (both platonic and romantic). At the same time, heart is cliche in a poem, so I don't really want you to change a thing. But at the same time I do? I'm just unsettled by that word, especially since it's so precious in the scarcity that is this poem.

If anyone ever tells you to expand your ideas on this poem, knock them on the head with a shovel. It's perfect how it is, sparing a bit of word choice.

"Empty" can be replaced to make something more powerful. Something that describes the scenery as well as the occupation count of the house. The same goes for "shiny"--it's very common for trophies to shine because they don't do much, but as a poet, how can you create that new dimension to your successes? Perhaps a word here could be placed to indicate the ultimate failure because the sacrifice was too great.

You're a good writer! Keep going. :]