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reciprocal grays

mother turns her head to 
see her son’s hair in the 
light shining above the
breakfast table all laid out &
spots a gray---
the dark brown hair once flailing
behind the drumset in the 
garage
during the teenage years,
has begun to go away &
it makes her feel older than she
is herself,
having earned her grays raising 
him,
having watched her own youth
fade away &
now seeing her son’s 
disappear with the years,
the overwhelming rapidity
(and ultimate demise)
of a human life 
swells within her.

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