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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