The Things Between Us

The Things Between Us

When I was five:

A foreign baby wiggles behind

smudged Plexiglas and pressed palms

my mop-headed newborn sister,

a pink burrito in a plastic cart,

in need of a name

Eight:

A bone-colored comb

choked with knots is freed by the

glide-swish, glide-swish

of Mama’s rouge handled scissors

coolly circumventing my right ear

Fourteen:

A new word—alopecia

my friend slowly pulls her wig away for

one day at the beach to swim and sun, free and light

at fourteen friends could still drown

fear in lake water

Nineteen:

Slathering Manic Panic dye without apology

magenta, electric blue,

forget-me-not purple

so different, so the same

seven months of invisible stardom

Twenty-two:

Grandma clutches tufts of hair,

cursing the chemo that

anchors her and her new curls—

silver as the spoons she still hasn’t passed down—

to our family for years to come

Thirty:

The fluid rhythm of Mama’s fingers

playing my mane like a fine-tuned instrument

pull-tugs, snugging tight these and all the things between us—

a braided history binding in broken ends,

knots and all

This wonderful, heartfelt poem is written by Niki Falkner. Niki is an English teacher and has won several awards for her poetry.