to my aunt, whose strength and resolve in her battle against cancer gives all of us hope and courage
when hair falls into a pile it does not fall straight
the way it hung from your head
just moments before
the muggy May night hangs from
the streetlights leans around corners taps
on the large glass window with nail-bitten fingers soft
and uncertain then looks away
the group gathers inside while passers-by
brisk and late and biting their nails check their watches
check the crossing lights check for keys
the group gathers inside champagne glasses
raised to life the muggy May night taps on the glass
then looks away when your hair falls into a pile
it is so much more than hair falling into a pile
i brush my daughter’s blond-almost-white hair
and i think of yours (brown-almost-black)
piled up on that barber’s floor she cries
as i untangle the knots pieces cling to the brush
wisps of it fall into my lap i hold her hair tight trying
to protect her from the pain impossible
when things are so tangled so knotted
there is bravery there but it is not on the floor
hidden under your pile of hair the buzzing shears
could not slice it away
you are no Samson you do not hand over
your strength or blindly push down
the pillars you are so much stronger than that
the courage has not left along with your hair
the courage is in you shining
so that sometimes i must look away
Oh, Shawn.
This is perfect.
And beautiful.
And it made me tear up. Love and prayers to your aunt and to your entire family.
I FEEL YOUR PAIN
nicely done, shawn,
This is beautiful, Shawn! Between you and Maile, I pretty much get my daily eye cleansing lately.
Goosebumps, Shawn. Goosebumps.
simply and eloquently beautiful
I love you, Shawn. Your words are so touching and I’ll think of them often. I miss you and Maile and kiddos. You make my journey so much more creative and I love it! HUGS!
What a beautiful tribuet to you aunt.
Women and hair and cancer. The poetic depths of the interplay between those three subjects cannot be overstated. I wrote three poems about hair when my mom was dying.
Good one, Shawn. Bringing in your daughter, too. Yes. That’s the way it goes.