Poetry
My Wife, With Bangs
M. F. Drummy
issue three
Before she stopped
coloring her hair at 62,
she gave the bangs
one final, valiant chance.
Upon her return from
the salon with what would
prove to be her last
cut and color,
I insisted on a photo.
It is the middle of
summer: She stands in
the cool shade of the full
Chinese crabapple tree
off our back patio,
red ripening fruit
popping out of the cascade
of emerald leaves
like raspberry buttons
in a lime cheesecake,
her laughing face
tilted slightly to her left,
pearl earring dangling from
the smooth lobe,
nearly concealed beneath
the fresh cut blondish hair
angled toward her neck
just above her left shoulder,
her hazel eyes looking straight
into mine, a sharp tenderness
beneath those wispy bangs.
The comfortable, off-white
cotton peasant top she wears
in the photo –
with the first three buttons
of six undone –
is hand-embroidered with
an intricate floral design
near each shoulder.
Her skin is healthy,
no sign yet of
the carvings she will
endure at the hands of
endless dermatologists
in her later years,
when stranger Mohs
rapidly becomes her
intimate companion,
ravaging her once
unblemished complexion,
subduing her girlish
vanity like a scythe
working through
the fourth cut in September.
This is my wife,
with bangs,
pink rose, petals perfectly
opened in that moment to
the casual, mortal sun.
About the Author
M F Drummy holds a PhD in historical theology from Fordham University. The author of numerous articles, essays, poems, reviews, and a monograph on religion and ecology, his poetry has appeared in dozens of journals, literary magazines, and anthologies, including Allium, Meetinghouse, Novus, and San Pedro River Review. His debut full-length collection of poetry (Perdido) from MSR Publishing will be forthcoming later this year. Originally from Massachusetts, he and his way cool life partner of over 20 years enjoy splitting their time between the Colorado Rockies and the rest of the planet. He can be found at
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