a pantoum by Laurence Vincent
She brushes along the edges,
coloring pale fibers in morning light.
Rebels of grey hair scatter cross her eyes
and over frames of focused glass.
Coloring pale fibers in morning light,
she hums while she choreographs,
observed behind a frame of glass.
The nurses do not hear the chaconne.
She hums while she choreographs
the brush’s colored strokes.
The nurses are deaf to the variations.
They don’t wish to hear from old children.
The brush’s colored strokes
dance near the paper’s edge.
The children wish to hear from the old mother
when they whisper in her ear.
“Dance near the paper’s edge,”
she rebels as her eyes scatter to cross the grey hair.
“When they whisper in your ear,
brush along the edges.”