anything but
as she unsteadily slides in the chairthe chair used for old people
my mother is not old
not this one who knows things
--balancing books
--speaking languages--technical, foreign, domestic
--what medicines not to take with others
--what phony looks like
the cloth and soap and water move over her,
a tired body soaking and sighing as heat relieves,
still
the lines and spots and wrinkles do not disappear
the way I want them to.
*******
a nightly routine
anything but
as she squirms and giggles her way to the water
the duck tub used for little people
my granddaughter is not a baby
she speaks
her own language
she rules the waves with her new found palms
willing her slippery self to stand
only to have my damp arms net her
lavender lather
is both the Eraser and the Siren
as the day's remants disappear down the drain
she is called to bed
new again
the way I want her to stay forever.
*******
miles apart, joined by name, and juxtaposed by time
their bare truth:
nothing washes away my memory of this day.
a moment to see the source of me
a moment to see the heart of me
Lillie and Lillie
