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Poetry | May/June 2021

Ritual

By Mary Beth Hines

Sunday afternoon and my turn
to kneel on the creaky yellow
kitchen step stool and bow
over the sink, unspool my locks 
into the clean pool, the white 
enamel basin. Two rust eyes blink 
from the bottom. I bend my neck 
for Mother's blessing. I might be clay. 
I might be dough. Her pulsing
soap-slicked fingers sink and knead.


5 replies on “Ritual”

Ann Marie Glennsays:
May 20, 2021 at 12:16 pm

Such simple words evoking an avalanche of emotion and memories.

Reply
Mary Beth Hinessays:
May 20, 2021 at 6:11 pm

Thank you for the thoughtful read Ann Marie!

Reply
Elaine T Lytesays:
May 21, 2021 at 3:13 pm

Brought back memories. Thank you

Reply
Emily Axelrodsays:
May 21, 2021 at 7:20 pm

I love this poem Mary Beth. Congrats.
Emily

Reply
Katherine Mullensays:
May 22, 2021 at 10:15 pm

Beautiful. I particularly love the two rust eyes. I think that basin may still be in the kitchen closet on Runestone! Her hands were full of love weren’t they.

Reply

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