I really haven’t explored poetry before; maybe a Haiku here, and a silly, short poem there. I didn’t even realize it is possible to REVISE a poem. So this has been more poetry than I’ve ever done in my life. Plus, the feedback, discussion and reading of poems has helped me understand how to make a poem more meaningful and enjoyable to read. Thanks WATO!!!!
This is going to be a portfolio of all my revised poems. These three poems (I’ll add more) are the ones I’ve worked the hardest on and am most proud of. Enjoy the revisions :) Amelia
Haikus
Pale pink faces hide
among blades of tall lush grass
her name is clover
———————————-
birds trill in shade trees
milk is spilled across
an empty blue sky
———————————–
Fern fronds face about
a venture in triangles
fabric from 80′s
Boarding School
You turn at the big white sign
onto a smooth
one-laner
It is not one-way
but it is for you
new faces
from all over the world
you’re looking for new friends
and they are too
trees hug the road
on either side
and stretch their fingers out
mingling with old and new companions
from across a divide.
These Hills
Where I’m from,
the hills are made from coffee ice cream,
scoops melting away in the sun.
Sometimes, they sprout wings and fly.
Sometimes, you stand on the top of the world
with the sun-bleached sky above you.
Has someone stood here before?
a Native American,
his short hair shorn with tears and blood?
his white-faced brother gazing upon the Sierras?
Or maybe a lone coyote
with a single glance at the falling moon
before slipping into the solitary desert night.
Those same hills being eaten away
(with a spoon)
by the life-force that flows
from the tears of the snow-capped lady.
Who knows how these hills will change.
Who knows how many other eyes
will call this place home?
He Lands
Lightly,
his muscles bulging
under red and blue fabric
his cape falling onto broad shoulders.
I stand on the opposite roof, behind the stair well.
I think he does not see me.
like a dream,
surreal,
fantastic.
Suddenly, he stretches
strong arms reaching
flexible enough that he touches his toes,
Bending down
as if to tie a shoe.
I blink in surprise
that this super-human
should have done
such a mundane task
I have a secret now
that no one else will share
blossoming in my chest.
He shrugs,
And flies away.
Writing and the Outdoors 
Really nice work, Amelia. I’d love to read more if you’re interested in posting others. The addition of “(with a spoon)” in “These Hills” works well. As I’ve said many times, I appreciate the unexpected, and sometimes simply adding a brief parenthetical can achieve this effect. Plus is echoes the opening ice cream imagery. I’ve also a fan of the title “He Lands.” We most often imagine Superman in flight, so twisting that around creates a nice effect. He’s not flying; he’s stretching his superhuman muscles, revealing to the narrator a secret about his (slight) fragility. I also like how he shrugs. That’s a great short line — which is another strategy that I appreciate in poetry. The shorter the line, the more impact it can create because it carries more weight. Glad you bought into the process of revising. That will serve you well, and I think we’re already starting to see your fine ability to make good choices about your own writing.
I also like the line about the “secret blossoming in my chest.” Makes me think of the big “S” that Superman wears on HIS chest. I wonder if you could make this connection even more apparent or significant in some way.