Interrupting chemo’s cruelty
I wield the silver blades which
until now, had simply trimmed bangs,
snipped itchy tags out of shirt collars.
A fine paintbrush of mom’s black hair
in one hand; the other shaken
by tiny vibrations,
each strand liberated
as the scissors close over them
by my will.
Finished, our gazes lock
in the bathroom mirror.
This poem was inspired by the Tweetspeak Book Club featuring Megan Willome’s new title,”The Joy of Poetry.” Writing for life is so much better in community~Will you be our poetry buddy?