I started off writing about my experience making cooter soup when I made a realization. I realized that the reason I found cooter soup so interesting in the first place was because of my deeply rooted Southern heritage. In particular my mother and the deep southern roots that run through her blood. Then I took it a little farther and began thinking that if The South ran through her blood then it ran just as strong through mine maybe even stronger. With my family living in the low country of Georgia, and the bayou's of Louisiana, my blood is as southern as it can get. My mother has always been a prevalent figure in my life and through the years people have always told me that I am the mirror image of her. It wasn't until recently that I realized that it was true, the more I age, the more I become more like her. It shows in my mannerisms, my passions, and my attitude towards life. It is because of these revelations that I wrote the following poem.I liked this poem's imagery, specially how "rubble of oppression" sounded and felt. Perhaps you could expand a bit more on her experience in life, a few more lines on hardship, or perhaps one more on good things to balance it out (two negative images, such as rubble and erosion, and two positive ones, love and... ?).
The Image of My MotherI am the image of my mother.A woman builtfrom the rubble of oppression.A woman shapedby the erosion of tough times.A woman who’s edges were smoothedby the finesse of love.I am my mother’s image.
I think "by the finesse of love" could use some more vivid imagery, instead of such an explicit statement--was it a child's love? Then perhaps their tiny, warm hand grasping hers. A husband's? His arms around her. A family's? Their smiles on a sunday evening's dinner.
Just some ideas, although I like the poem a lot where it is.
