Steering Wheel

Circe's picture

Turned from the seat, feet resting on
clutch&brake,
and looked at my father sitting
next to me.

How strange this is, to have my hands
on the wheel
in this seat of power
that I'd only ever
imagined myself in.

How odd to have my life resting,
so soft and vulnerable
between my palms,
master of my own fate and desire.

His eyes were liquid with pride
and sharp with more than a little
apprehension,
but he handed the keys to me with
near-compunction,
as if this were something he did
every day.
As if it weren't significant
of how long it had been
since I fit in the crook
of his forearm.

My mother laughed and embraced me,
and Usa told me that I will always
be her little girl. My brother
was loud with jealousy/pride/fear,
and I was quiet,
unsure
that I was allowed to be here;
not quite comfortable
in this new-found skin
of adulthood.

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DarkDecember's picture

Wow, Circe, this is really

Wow, Circe, this is really nice. I think you capture that feeling well, the feeling as you grow up that you're suddenly becoming an adult and you're not quite comfortable with that yet.
I have one little thing- it feels too short. It feels like there should be more there, like it just sort of cuts off. This feels like a personal experience, and I'm hesitate to say this because of that, but if you could revise this and make it a little longer, I think it would be perfect.
Great job, Circe, I like this a lot.
DarkDecember.

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I wish I were pretty/I wish I were brave/If I owned this city/I would make it behave -Let the Rain, Sara Bareilles

gradster1's picture

I'm not. DarkDecember, your

I'm not.

DarkDecember, your comment lies in odd juxtaposition with your signature. I can see what you mean, but I feel as if this stands well on its own.

That said, I've heard that no piece of writing is ever finished. And while I think this piece could use more, I don't mean it in the sense that it needs more. It just could use it if you decided to extrapolate.

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-A

Circe's picture

gradster and December...

I'm choosing not to bring this piece to a conclusion for a reason. It's sort of a minimalist; you could never wholly capture the feeling of growing up in a single poem.

And it's a continuing process. I'm learning how to drive, becoming an adult, and there really is no conclusion, no point I'm trying to make. It's just a verbal snapshot of this moment in time.
Thank you both for your feedback and opinions, constructive criticism is always appreciated. It helps me become a better writer, even if I choose not to take it. I'm forced to think about my writing in a new way, and justify the reasons behind my choices. So thank you for giving me that opportunity with this piece.

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Ͼirce

Circe-

I liked this alot!
It was very interesting to read, and it was a good subject to write to.
Great Job!

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