Oct 2018
Hands, rough, gather up two handfuls
Tugging the brown-gold silk into piles
Feeling the chafing on back of my neck
Its tender movement is loved as comb.
A sharp scratch from crown to the nape
Tortoiseshell plastic slightly dusty grey
Divided, plaited, and tied with bands to
Black nylon ribbons, you kiss forehead.
Love Mary ***
Tugging the brown-gold silk into piles
Feeling the chafing on back of my neck
Its tender movement is loved as comb.
A sharp scratch from crown to the nape
Tortoiseshell plastic slightly dusty grey
Divided, plaited, and tied with bands to
Black nylon ribbons, you kiss forehead.
Love Mary ***
My mother’s poor hands got so sore from the new biological washing powder in the sixties.They were all cracked and bleeding .Love you Mum , Mary ***
