By Lynn M. Hansen
Modesto Branch, California
1st Place Marion Doyle Poetry Award, 2020
They warned me it would be gone.
It would take fourteen days
for my hair to fall into my food,
gather in clumps at my feet
in the shower, form mats
in my brush or comb by the fistful.
As if on schedule, long grey strands
loosened from their follicles
then drifted to the floor
making it necessary to clip
the remainder, before a patchwork
pate became unbearable.
Friends came, held hands
in ceremony to honor loss.
Mani burned white sage, offered
Yaqui prayers, sang Lakota blessing.
Melinda buzz-cut the remaining strands.
Lillian helped harvest my locks
for moments of sharing –
strands draped from garden fence posts,
at the wildlife refuge bundles dangled
on barren willow twigs and cottonwood
branches swollen with buds, wisps
of hair fluttered on naked cattail stalks –
my gifts to the birds for their mothering.
Your powerful poem is your gift to us as readers just as your wisps of hair were gifts to the birds for their mothering.
I can see why this beautiful, poignant poem won a First Place Award. Thank you for sharing.
POWERFUL & CONGRATULATIONS.
If one can call acts of mourning beautiful, these beautiful images convey that quality.
Poignant. Evokes feelings.
Simple, beautiful words that don’t need an interpreter.
Congratulations. Thanks for sharing.
I have never been where you have traveled. But your poem drew me close and made me feel your loss. I pray you are now on a strong healing path.
Lovely Carolynn, Thank you so much for your empathetic comment. I am now 5 1/2 years out from the end of chemotherapy and am doing very well. During the dark days of this experience, a Pen Woman from Houston Texas shared my situation with her church and they sent a healing shawl knitted by members of their congregation. I wore it thorough all of my treatments and it gave a real boost to my morale. Lynn