Page 8 - Contrast1977Novemberv21n1

Tarnished Silver hair
the color of your mother I s
heirloom spoons,
curled just above her
coke bottle glasses.
Her eyes were wet and rOlll'ld,
their centuries service bidden
behind a glass museumcase.
TWotangles of bone and
wrinkle reaching out with the
power of a blowtorch welded
themselves to the young manI s palm.
Her amber teeth in tombstone rows
appeared between cracked leather lips.
"Son, it'~ a goo.d thing you've done."

KBith Slifer