Around the spectrum,
Let’s for a moment imagine,
Close your eyes,
Step into my time machines,
Watch the step,
We are returning to my youth,
Brass rings,fun house up at the lakes,
All mom’s had normal hair,
Mom’s were our mom’s,
Friends were the ones with no responsibility for us,
It was only with age,
Other moms saw their children as mature,
My mom and I in time became pals,
It took longer mom fear me being gay,
Stupid belief that being gay was a choice,
Mom’s embarrassed their children not knowing,
Youth is not a state of mine!
Our husk ages,
Internally we remain young,
How we see things,
Recall those we loved,
My neighbor off the cuff said something not thinking last night,
You’re the kind of people I use to get paid to care for!
I said what kind of people?
She said people who walk with difficulty!
I said I been struck by two different cars!
I said I will cut my wrist before anyone thinks I need them to care for me!
Boy that made me fighting mad!
When I worked with older women I loved it!
Some women dyed their hair,
No one thought purple,
Some of my friends older which matters naught,
Used a dying thing a ma Bob at the beautician ,
Then called it bluing!
I often wondered why,
It never made my friends appear younger,
Made their grey hair tint blue,
That doesn’t make anyone look younger,
Bea Regan was always proud of her white hair,
I loved Bea and all my eighteen lady’s in Waukon,Iowa,
Bea Regan,Bea Fahey,Bea Zahl,Leona Baxter, Mary Florence Jean Fitzgerald, Katie Wagner,Mary Theresa Collins,,Collin Hart,Harriet Duggan,Mildred Marsden, Vonnie White, Loretta Ryan,Julia Ryan,Margret Schultz Beulah Bower,Alice and Irene Brainard and,and most important my mom Marian D Heike all of Waukon,Iowa.
Being Lied on to Elder Abuse so an abusive older narcississ half sister could Gaslight,torch then hover out of her home hurt more then either car striking me.
Not being allowed to be with my mom those precious last years while a half sister place two codeine pain packs a week on our vivacious,intelligent,independent mom made me realize that all the stupid tints in the world don’t matter at all.
Hair color will never draw these mother’s to their children. They need to share time. Protect them,love them.
Mom’s your not a kid.You are an artist. Your child is a rare work of art, You mold them with courage and intellect. Your children are the future.