JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

From outside it’s just a head

bobby-pinned, mostly white, a few gray strands

hint of lemony shampoo lingering

and an ear you speak into

through a trumpet

 

When she doesn’t answer at once

you greet her again

‘hello granny, it’s me’

 

She turns and looks at you

ever so slowly

as you wait for her smile

for her reassurance that

all is well inside her

inner world

 

It’s like waiting

for an amaryllis to bloom

or a fox terrier, head cocked

besides a Victrola

 

Perhaps she’s listening

to a song

left somewhere in childhood

‘the music goes round and round

…and it comes out here’

 

‘Hello Cornelia’ says granny

‘I was just having the most

amazing dream’

 

and then you both smile