Putting Up My Daughter’s Hair Before A Bath
She turns her body away
curls falling over her shoulder
like rain on a window.
Her shoulders,
a comma at the end of a sentence,
curved and triumphant.
I take in my hands,
her curls, which are light–
the weightlessness a wisp
of all the delicate pieces.
I collect them all:
carefully wrap the rubberband
bringing it over again and again
and I lower her into the warm bath water.
She folds into play with her sister
droplets of water go unnoticed
as they lift arms up and out of the water
birds diving again and again for fish,
creating colonies of animals,
and I am rendered useless
as it gets easier and easier
to float.
- © Alexandria Tannenbaum 2023
Alexandria Tannenbaum is a poet and twice National Board Certified educator working outside of Chicago, Illinois. She is pursuing a poetry MFA from Lindenwood University. Her poems are published in the journal Across The Margin, and her poem “The Strip Mall” will be appearing in an upcoming publication of As It Ought To Be Magazine.
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