Haircut

Finally unable to deal with the corona of clown hair,
I went back for a redo.

I was surprised at the intensity of the process.

Because there was loss:
The towhead waves of childhood,
The spiral blonde curls of adolescence,
The young mom golden ‘do of my twenties,
All passed now into a wiry brown of indeterminate worth.

And there was uncertainty:
I have needed low maintenance;
I have chosen no cost,
And, I will admit, I have never lost
Some wish for the long hair
That Paul claims is a glory to a woman,
A little Bible burden that has never meshed
Well with my reality.

And there were competing desires:
In a perfect world, I would pick long hair
And Phil would pick short.
I would pick curls
And Phil would pick straight.

So I had to actually think about me.
Am I worth a haircut more often than
Annually? Is it possible to like my look?
If I have long hair but always pull it back
Because it never looks good, is that good?

I am shorn now. My hair
And my person and my personality
All match.

I didn’t know it could be done.