“She didn’t always look this way,”
pulling a comb through her mother’s matted hair.
“Just last week she was fine, she was okay,”
she said while the woman in bed rattled away
about Sammy, her cat, and the snakes on the floor.
“She didn’t always look this way,”
she said again, the light of day
making paste of the face I saw taped to the door.
“Just last week she was fine, she was okay.
See that picture on the door? See the way
She smiles? Daddy put that rose in her hair…
she didn’t always look this way.
Mama, dear, you need help with your tray,
Mama don’t, you’re getting food everywhere.
Just last week she was fine, she was okay,”
she said while the woman in bed played
in her carrots and pears.
“She didn’t always look this way.
Just last week she was fine, she was okay.”
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