[Susan McLean]

The Year of the Snake

I have peeled off my skin again.
Shedding the seamless life I'd made
feels blistering, like being flayed.
I'm more unshielded than I've been
in decades. Aching, raw, bereft,
I search for any salve to numb
the oozing wound that I've become,
still reaching back for what I left.

How much I wish I could refuse
the price of living: to outgrow
the skintight sheath of all I know
and all I care about; to lose
my job, my house, my town, my friends,
as one life starts and one life ends.

Revisions:
L3 . was ,
L4 "shaky" was "rattled"; then line was "and I'm more shaky than I've been"
L8 "for" was "toward"
L12 ; was ,

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Susan—

I like this poem very much. You present in clear, straightforward language the image of the snake painfully shedding its skin as a metaphor for the paradoxical dissatisfaction, regret, and sense of confinement we experience when we achieve the life we planned and worked so hard for. Or perhaps it represents the pain of having to start over when a catastrophic change in circumstances (death of a loved one, wildfire, serious illness, loss of a job) upends the carefully crafted life we built. Fine work!

Glenn

[Susan McLean]

Glenn, I've read that major change (good or bad) is traumatic, and that the more major changes you deal with at the same time, the worse the trauma. I started writing this poem in 2018 when I retired, but I didn't get very far with it because I was too depressed to write. Ironically, going back to it now, in the actual Year of the Snake, I was finally able to complete it. Though I am specific about what I was losing, I wanted to leave the content open enough that it could apply to others dealing with change in their lives. I am glad it worked for you.

Susan

[Rick Mullin]

Hi Susan,

This is about as close as you can come to a perfect sonnet! All I can say is congrats.

Rick

[Roger Slater]

Did you intend "rattled" to be a pun on rattlesnake? I couldn't help but think of it that way, but it struck me as a distraction and out of place given the overall tenor of the poem.

L6 suggestion: "I'm searching for a salve to numb", and maybe in L8 change "still" to "and".

[Susan McLean]

Rick, I'm bowled over that you think so.

Roger, yes, since I was writing about snakes, I knew that "rattled" would evoke rattlesnakes. But I don't see that as inappropriate. The snake rattles when it is rattled itself. Being devastated can make a person dangerous, too. "Any salve" was supposed to be open-ended and suggestive of all the negative ways people choose to numb pain. I don't think "a salve" would have the same impact. I think the "still" also carries weight, because one can't go back, but that doesn't stop one from wanting to.

Susan

[Julie Steiner]

Hi, Susan! I enjoyed this.

I wonder if L1's meter could benefit from making the iambs a bit more driving:

     I'm peeling off my skin again.
or
     I've peeled away my skin again.
or
     I'm sloughing off my skin again.

vs. the double iamb of
     I have peeled off my skin again.

(Maybe I just don't like double iambs.)

[Alex Pepple]

Hello, Susan,

This is a powerful and evocative poem with a visceral, tactile quality that makes the transformation feel raw and immediate. The extended metaphor of shedding skin works beautifully to convey the pain and inevitability of major life changes.

I’ve suggested a few minor tweaks for smoother rhythm, stronger phrasing, and a bit more freshness, while keeping your intent fully intact—take what fits, discard the rest!

The Year of the Snake

I have peeled off my old skin again. →
Smoother meter, plus "old" adds more emotional weight and texture, reinforcing the idea of a past self being shed.
Shedding Sloughing the seamless fitting life I'd made →
"Sloughing" feels fresher and ties more uniquely to the snake imagery, avoiding the predictability of "shedding." "Fitting" also strengthens the metaphor by directly relating to the skin concept, rather than "seamless," which suggests perfection rather than a snug, personal attachment.
feels blistering, like being left blisters like with someone flayed, →
A more active and visceral rewording that removes the "telling" nature of "feels blistering" and heightens the sensory impact.
and I'm more rattled than I've been
in decades. Aching, raw, till bereft, →
This slight adjustment improves the flow while maintaining the emotional intensity of the line.
I search for any salve to numb
the oozing wound that I've become,
still reaching back toward for what I left. → "For" improves the meter and reads more naturally while keeping the intended meaning intact.

How much I wish I could refuse
the price of living: to outgrow
the skintight sheath of all I know
and all I care about,; to lose → A semicolon clarifies the syntax, making the connection between ideas smoother.
my job, my and house, my town, my and friends, → This revision enhances rhythm and reduces unnecessary repetition while maintaining the list structure.
as one life starts and one life ends.

This is a moving and deeply relatable piece that beautifully captures the pain of transition, blending physical and emotional transformation seamlessly. The suggested refinements aim to enhance clarity, rhythm, and sensory engagement, while keeping your poem's core strength intact.

Good luck with this, Susan!

Cheers,
...Alex

[Hilary Biehl]

I love it, Susan. Very relatable. The opening line seems perfect to me. It is spare yet striking and unsettling. I love "seamless life" too.

The only line that doesn't quite work for me is "and I'm more rattled than I've been / in decades". I've been trying to pinpoint what feels off about it to me. It's not the play on rattlesnakes that bothers me. Maybe it's because it's sandwiched between two powerful images - the flaying and blistering on the one side, the oozing wound on the other - and somehow being "more rattled" doesn't quite stand up to them? I'm not sure. It's an excellent poem, regardless.

[Susan McLean]

Thanks, everyone, for the suggestion. I have made a couple of small tweaks and am considering others.

Julie, I don't want a smooth meter to describe what was not a smooth process. The slight bunching of the double iamb is part of the pain. I am probably the only one who can hear it, but behind the first line I hear the first line of Plath's "Lady Lazarus": "I have done it again."

Alex, thanks for your suggestions. I have taken a couple of them, but I do not want to smooth the meter too much. "Sloughing" to me suggests something that is peeling off of its own accord, while I want to suggest something that is stripped off painfully. I want the list at the end to sound very possessive, so removing the "my" that accompanies each thing reduces that effect.

Hilary, I know "rattled" doesn't sound overwhelming. I chose it partly because it suggested something shaking, like a person shivering without her skin.

Susan