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Dressing Table ~

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  • Dressing Table ~

    Dressing Table
    by Charles L. Cingolani


    She watched her combing the young girl's hair
    And thought back fifty years
    To when her own mother stood combing hers.
    She felt the pleasant tugging
    The warm hands touching her neck
    Saw the smile on their faces in the mirror.

    How she longed to have her own combed
    Like that mother was doing
    With the same love she saw the girl receiving.
    But she had no one,
    So she became that girl she was watching
    Until her mother had finished.


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