A time to remember....

cried unshed monsoons this afternoon,

 

remembering her,

 

as i silently pulled large hanks of hair

out of my dying mother’s head.

 

she'd asked me to do this for her,

no way of knowing its price on my soul

or the even now too fresh images

of the night before

when she stood naked

after her shower

frantic, that the tub wouldn’t drain

for the tresses she had lost.

 

perhaps i was selfish, not wanting to see her go

three strands remaining

to every fifty or so

that slipped like silken feathers

to float into the wind.

 

“the birds can line their nests with it”

and I, gulping, “yea, sure, it will be soft, warm”

like the gentle hugs I was soon to miss.

 

as i watched handful after handful turn loose in my hands

i wished i was one of those birds.

 

~sparrow~