Her

Her:

eyebrows were like those thick spiky caterpillars crawling unevenly on the outside of the banister.
heavy bags underneath were missing today,suggesting she was well rested.
Every time she smiled, the crinkled fried crow lines popped especially near the left eye.
Sprinkled gray glistened around the border of her hair whenever she turned her head.
I missed the eyes glaring at the next intended target of her wrath.

As I leaned into the glass, I saw a different version of her, my mother looking at me.

 

Mechanicsville via Chicago, Illinois