Perhaps we should shave our heads
And say a prayer
She giggles
I see my father in my face
It is what I have become
We buy flowers
Make a display
Lush as a beard
All colours and scents
Make and mends
She bows her head
I am not sure I like men
She says
Building blocks
Matchboxes and books
We are not bitter
But we do not like to lose our words
It is all we have
The story at our feet
The prayer
The silently mumbled words
We pay due reverence
To the monks
Comb our hair out
Let the tangles fall in the sink
We are so very tired
That is why we lie still
Hand in hand
Prayer in prayer.
