Ode to my Hair
(Consider, first, that I know not how to write an ode; that I think writing an ode to my hair is utterly ridiculous; and that I don’t know what else to do, so I’m going for it)
Brunette you once were (or brown, as it’s also called, which I don’t like, but I do! See yesterday’s post).
First grey strand plucked at the tender age of twelve.
One strand pulled makes twenty more grow, I’m sure.
Silver, not grey, and no, I don’t dye it.
Children brought out the silver in me.
A perm at a young age, oh unnecessary perm. And no one able to see the chalkboard from behind me. How embarrassing!
Such big hair!
I can’t see out of my left eye!
Back then and again now.
“You have such cool hair”, they say.
It’s one of the few features I can agree on. So, thank you.
I like it.
(I am still kind of cringing from writing that.)