Shampooing

A poem for my Mom.

At the kitchen sink,
the unceremonious baptistery of our ritual,
I lay all my hopes for re-creation in the skillful art
of your hands, and bend my head under
the drowning rush of tap water.
 
Your hands, slick with shampoo,
caress my hair and scalp until the suds begin to bubble
their familiar cleansing litany.
 
Under the water again,
I watch the bubbles swirl around the drain
and disappear, carrying away
the residue of my world.
 
The water stops.
I lift my towel-dried hair
and breathe the welcome air,
full of the promises of a clean beginning.
 
………………………………………………………………..
This poem is being shared at One Stop Poetry for Mother’s Day. Click here to submit your own poetry and read the work of other great poets. Happy Mother’s Day!
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11 Comments

  1. Lovely. 🙂

    Reply
  2. this is why i skip church but never skip the salon!

    love it.

    Reply
  3. smiles. this brought back some nice memories of having my hair washed in teh sink…which were all good except the time i got glue in my hair…

    Reply
  4. LOL… perhaps our mom’s knew each other. Mine did the same. I do remember wash day!

    Reply
  5. Every summer we would move out of our home and into a caravan to let the house out for holiday makers. I remember being sat in an old cast iron sink under the summer sun! Great memories!

    Reply
  6. Tino11

     /  May 8, 2011

    Brings back some memories does this one.

    Thanks for sharing.

    Reply
  7. It is the simple joys that give the best memories and pleasure. Thank you for sharing your words.

    Reply
  8. This was lovely… my memories of shampooing are quite different. I think I’ll adopt this version instead. 🙂

    Reply
  9. Thank you all for visiting, reading and the lovely comments. I’m glad that it struck a chord for some of you. I enjoyed hearing your memories as well.

    Reply
  10. Simple joys…this brought back some memories.

    Reply
  11. Brought back memories of my childhood. Loved it.

    Reply

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