Hair Blowing In the Wind

From the last depths of her mind
the quiet of her own thought.
She craves one final statement
to appease what she has wrought.

In the autumn season of life
winter creeeping quite close.
She's seeking a last symbol of youth
to tell all she's not yet comatose.

He children wish to question
decisions she's still able to make.
Appears their answer to every inquiry is,
always,"mom, for heavens sake."

Dear lady, speak clearly
respond to every word they send.
Go buy that convertible sports car
drive, let your hair blow in the wind.

And if you really wish to shout,
hey, look yaw'll, by Charlie."
You will really blow their minds
if you ride up on a Harley.

Del Cano 2005 Oct