A Turban of Handkerchiefs

all the time
Mama’s headaches

she lives under turbans
I help her wrap them

hot wet handkerchiefs
rolled and twisted

a wobbly crown
on her head

in her bedroom
day folds into night

even at noon
Mama hides under the covers

shh   close the door
I need quiet

pull down the shades
I need dark

but even the quiet
not quiet enough

even the dark
not dark enough