What is this poem saying?

Combing: By Gladys Cardiff

Bending, I bow my head

And lay my hand upon

Her hair, combing, and think

How women do this for

Each other. My daughter鈥檚 hair

Curls against the comb,

Wet and fragrant鈥攐range

Parings. Her face, downcast,

Is quiet for one so young.

I take her place. Beneath

My mother鈥檚 hands I feel

The braids drawn up tight

As a piano wire and singing,

Vinegar-rinsed. Sitting

Before the oven I hear

The orange coils tick

The early hour before school.

She combed her grandmother

Mathilda鈥檚 hair using

A comb made out of bone.

Mathilda rocked her oak-wood

Chair, her face downcast,

Intent on tearing rags

In strips to braid a cotton

Rug from bits of orange

And brown. A simple act,

Preparing hair. Something

Women do for each other,

Plaiting the generations.

What is this poem saying?

The poem says it outright.

It's about the little links between mother and daughter and grandaughter and great-grandaughter, ad infinitum, through time. It's about links between us all -- or, plaits, if you will.

What is this poem saying?

links or tradition in family