MOTHER

“Mother”
A Poem by Sinead Looby

It was my hair day
Time to get chopped
And feel a change of sorts
Taking my seat
To rest my feet
A lady beside me
In her space wear helmet
Was almost done
Margaret was returned to her chair
By two girls who exchanged a stare
“If you know who
Needs the loo
It’s not a pretty sight
So don’t get a fright”
It was a blessing that
Margaret's hearing was regressing
As scissors danced with
Lightning speed
Hair rained down
Upon my knees
The bell rang
Someone’s face at the glass
Enter son to collect mother
Mother was nearly done
Coffered and lacquered
In front of her son
“Button up Mother
It’s cold outside
Where’s your handbag love?
Is it by your side”
Alone in my chair
I didn’t mean to stare
But the love that flowed
Was a sight to behold
In a world that is now
Gone quite cold