Saturday, March 28, 2009

Aging for Sunday Scribblings

I'm recycling this week. I wrote this one a couple years ago.
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If she tilts
her head
just so
in the golden shafts
of sun,
I can see
a lone hair
growing
on her chin.

I consider telling
her about it
but we’re in the middle
of a card game
and she’s winning
so I don’t want
to spoil
this time
we have together.

Later that night
after she has climbed
the stairs
one step at a time
carrying the weight
of eighty-one
years of laughter
and sadness,

I, too get ready
for bed.
I brush my teeth,
wash my face
and apply
a night cream.
The light
catches a glint
on the curve
of my chin
and I stand there
looking in the mirror
at my mother.

20 comments:

anthonynorth said...

A frightening realisation. I remember an almost exact same event when I saw my father.

if said...

I almost could see that images...very human and true!

Tumblewords: said...

Poignant and powerful. There's no going back...except in mind and mirror. Nice work!

Lucy said...

beautiful and powerful Linda! I will never forget the first time I saw my mom in my mirror!

MichaelO said...

Every day we look in the mirror. It's fleeting when we actually see what's in it!

ds said...

Hi!
You were highly recommended by oh, so I thought I would stop by as I do enjoy poetry. This is beautiful, and so true. In every sense of the word. Thank you.

Serious Black said...

do old people really go through all that?

Understanding Alice said...

lovely! I look very much like my mother, so I consistently have a good idea of what I will look like in 30 years time.

Beth said...

Your poem begins with such neatly vivid description, I'm drawn right in to understanding your mother's aging. What a neat twist to bring it back to that reality in the mirror. It's not so easy to write about aging and your relationship with your mother. This is a fine poem!

linda may said...

This is lovely and terrible at the same time. I don't want to be my mother.

susan said...

You paint the most vivid images. For most of my life I did not want to be my mother. But part of us is who we came from and these days, I no longer fight or regret seeing my mother in me. I think it's what you call self-acceptance.

Enjoyed this like I do each time I read your work, Linda.

Fledgling Poet said...

This is absolutely true...the older I get, the more I see my mother when I look in the mirror. You wrote about it very poignantly...

keiths ramblings said...

This is simply superb.I'm never looking in the mirror again.

rosey said...

When I look in the mirror I see my father.Yikes!!!

Tammy said...

I have jowl fuzz just like my mom had. She died at 44 and grandma is gone, so the DNA of aging will be a surprise. I loved the emotion in between the lines. :)

Jennifer Hicks said...

wow. i was right there through the whole piece. i got a really smattering that life is what it is from your words.

SweetTalkingGuy.. said...

Phew, and doesn't it happen all too quickly!

Poignant poetry!!

Tanya Gwen Minnick said...

you captured this moment so well! very well done. I enjoyed this post very much.
:)

jay said...

That's a very nicely rounded tale. And so true - we all have the images of our parents in us somewhere.

Bee Bee said...

Poignant. About us seeing a part of our parents within ourselves, we all want to, consciously or not.

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