To Have and to Hold

Taylor Woodworth

A woman lives to serve a man with grace.

She soaks her hair in rain to keep him dry.

Her legs of satin mask in hidebound lace

and god forbid she lets him see her cry.

Society, it tells her what she’s worth,

a simple mannequin for cloaks to drape.

Not much except a capsule built for birth,

aside from man's expensive taste for shape.

She longs to sing the truth, though she refrains,

a ribbon from her corset knots her lips

bound by steel of title ball and chain,

her song is heard much better from her hips.

And so he holds behind his back, a knife

and tells that classic joke “I hate my wife.”

Taylor Woodworth (Writer)

My name is Taylor, I’m 17 and this spring term is my third term at pcc. I graduated from Cleveland high school in 2021 as a junior. I’ve lived in Portland my whole life, but hope to venture elsewhere in the coming years. I wrote these poems last fall for a poetry class. I find myself having so much to say but not knowing how to say it, so I like to build pictures with words to organize my thoughts. That is the best way I can think to describe my work. In my free time I enjoy playing and listening to music, and casual ghost hunting.