Stranded
I remember, when I was five, mama would lay me down on the kitchen drainboard to wash my hair in the sink, a washrag over my eyes to keep out the soap.
Now she’s gone, and I’m stranded here with thousands of small memories of how much I was loved.
Parted hair and braided. Still locks of golden thoughts tied with a bow.
Love those wash cloths over the eyes to keep out the soap. Yes I resonate and remember 🎁