Nefertiti's head
black-coated plaster
chipped at the base
sitting on the bookcase by the window
in our living room
reminds me of that other bookcase
in my parent's old house
(and the one before that
and the one before that)
the one they had when my father was still alive
and my mother wasn't yet in the retirement home
where I grew so used to seeing it
now one glimpse of it
from the corner of my eye
and I am back
sitting in that other living room
visiting
for a moment
where I used to live
and who I used to be
My mother's 89 now
and soon
all I'll have left is Nefertiti's head