reciprocal grays

mother turns her head to

see her son’s hair in the

light shining above the

breakfast table all laid out &

spots a gray---

the dark brown hair once flailing

behind the drumset in the

garage

during the teenage years,

has begun to go away &

it makes her feel older than she

is herself,

having earned her grays raising

him,

having watched her own youth

fade away &

now seeing her son’s

disappear with the years,

the overwhelming rapidity

(and ultimate demise)

of a human life

swells within her.