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Texas Poetry

 

 

I could see the sadness in her eyes

as each chunk of her golden hair came forth in her hand.

She placed her once shining, golden flax into a plastic bag

to be reminded of the beauty of her hair.

 

Her hair stylist assured her that baking soda

washed gently in her hair would prevent

the falling of her hair from her scalp.

 

In giving her this suggestion

the stylist refused to cut her hair shorter

in order to make her lost easier to bear.

The stylist was wrong.

 

Bear witness to the shining and blotched scalp

where beautiful golden hair once resided.

Nightmares of her past returned to her.

 

Remembrance of a childhood ring worm of her head

returned to haunt her again

of laughing classmates

finger-pointing to stocking capped head.

 

The Spector of Death upon a black chair

drove her to the…

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