reciprocal grays

mother turns her head to
see her son's hair in the
light shining above the
breakfast table all laid out &
spots a gray---
the dark brown hair once flailing
behind the drumset in the
garage
during the teenage years,
has begun to go away &
it makes her feel older than she
is herself,
having earned her grays raising
him,
having watched her own youth
fade away &
now seeing her son's
disappear with the years,
the overwhelming rapidity
(and ultimate demise)
of a human life
swells within her.