Poetry and Old Wives’ Tales

Poetry and Old Wives’ Tales

“Black and white shot of two old women carrying bags in Zaragoza” by Rubén Bagüés on Unsplash

The term “old wives’ tales” is meant to be derogatory, like so many phrases that make mention of women. I’m reclaiming it right this minute. I’m old, and I’m a wife. And I tell tales.

Some folk wisdom, once disparaged as old wives’ tales, is turning out to be true. Also, the trees can speak, you know.

Old wives’ tales can be the subjects of poems, like this very cool list poem by Safia Elhillo.

And, they make good prompts if you’ve temporarily run out of ideas for new poems.

Photo by Presian Nedyalkov on Unsplash
One old wives’ tale that I heard as a child was that dragonflies (or flying needles as they were sometimes called) would sew up the mouths of naughty, mouthy little girls. That would have been the little me, who makes an appearance in this poem, originally published in the Fall 2017 issue of Paper Nautilus.

Bad Seed

At the market, I can’t resist

the orchid sellers, or any hothouse beauty,

although I know the flowers

and their little open mouths

won’t last. Conditions in the outside world

don’t often favor anything so delicate.

Ask the dragonflies: did they invent

the stories told to evil, orphaned children?

Or tell us how the iridescent spike

between a pair of gauzy wings

can sew a naughty mouth right shut?

The orphan-master tells me

Your mother was a slut.

I run crying to the river,

where dragonflies pause

on bulrushes, a half-sunk oar, a kneecap.

Each wears sapphire, tourmaline, and wings

as intricate as Shetland lace.

I point to my lips, in case they can fix

the threads about to come unstitched.

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