Poetry Break

I remember your hair

orange amber piled high atop your top

and all over your body

except your young shoulders were

bare and strong.

I remember your hair

dark, natural curl

that Filipino bounce.

Your family brought scarves and

combs to brush away and cover.

I remember your hair

thick and white, smelling nice

reminding me of my grandpa

You were dressed so nicely as you

came for chemotherapy.

I remember your hair

lying in your bed, red.

Scattered on the floor, in the corners

of the room

you would toss it at me.

I remember your hair

lying in your bed, short-times.

Family members, mother, changing

sheets and trying to keep

your lovely hair from covering the room.

I remember your hair

was there and then was gone.

I don’t recall the days it left itself

for me to wade through and pick off

my clothes.

            But I do remember

Your heads. 

The smoothness,

     The flat parts,

                The bumps,

me wanting to pull them to myself in an embrace

to give the comfort and safety that is beyond myself.                               9/13/03