Glimpses

The hair cascades and through folds of grey

Strands you can see through the years

To a young girl and her mother

Brushing her hair and letting it fall

In folds deep and thick

As she closes her eyes to enjoy the touch

And feel of memory, years past

Which haunts her

So appropriately witnessed near

Mother's Day the image is for

A moment and fades

As the room focuses back to today

And the woman brushes again

Telling her it is thicker than

The last time grown with the memory

Of time what a gift a moment

Can be and what a picture

Of the stages which bind us

One to another in the

Memory of the soul