My Mother and Rita Hayworth by Sharon Waller Knutson

My mother curls and dyes
her hair henna red
like her favorite movie star.

But while Rita Hayworth
romances, dances and sings
with Astaire, Cagney and Sinatra,

my mother marries
my father in front
of a justice of the peace,

fries us bacon and eggs,
brown bags PB&J
sandwiches with an apple,

gets praise
for her fried chicken,
mashed potatoes and gravy.

While Rita Hayworth
gets Alzheimers, my
mother gets melanoma.

The two glamour
queens die exactly
a year apart.



Sharon Waller Knutson, a retired journalist, writes poetry from her Arizona desert home. Her work has appeared in The Orange Room Review, Literary Mama, Verse-Virtual, Wild Goose Poetry Review and Your Daily Poem. She is the author of five chapbooks: Dancing with a Scorpion, My Grandmother Smokes Chesterfields, Desert Directions, They Affectionately Call Her a Dinosaur and I Did It Anyway.