[revising in place...]
It pulls so heavy, so long
it's a hindrance to sitting.
Up, it brings headaches;
down, a tangle and no one
but me to brush it out.
No one lifts it but me,
no other hands hold it.
Braided, I'm a matron;
knotted, a librarian. Some
other woman or child, bald
from illness and its cures,
will carry it with more
grace, more gratitude.
It will grow back, thinner
and more gray. I found
blood on the garden
stones this morning.
Some songbird, caught
in the talons of a kestrel?
The garden is blooming:
yellow columbine, blue
delphinium, purple allium,
coral bells, a hundred small
white flowers on the wild
geranium. I breathe deep
the fertile air. I try to stand
up straight. I try to hold
my head high. It's heavy.
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i really like the train of thought on this one,, isn't it funny how a thing as simple as hair can become such a perplexing subject... and yet,, in the second stanza,, you bring to light how thoughts about it,, invade even the garden... very nicely done piece....
Posted by: paisley | 26 June 2008 at 06:31 AM
It's a simple and effective piece this. I particularly enjoyed the second stanza although my first reaction was that it was out of place. One should take care not to make snap judgements, shouldn't one? I read a poem a few days ago where a child describes his father in terms of body parts. It's certainly not a new approach but you approach it well.
One thing I felt was missing was:
Braided, I'm a matron;
knotted, a librarian;
down, I'm a [ ]
and, of course, you can say a lot by what you choose to say – or not say – here.
I think the title might be stronger too. It works – and I don't have any suggestions – but you might want to think about it.
Posted by: Jim Murdoch | 26 June 2008 at 09:39 AM
I relate to the melancholy tone of the narrator, who seems to wonder if the hair is worth it. Interesting how the thoughts move from the body to nature, turning the observations of the world into an extended metaphor of the thoughts about the body.
Posted by: christine | 26 June 2008 at 11:21 AM
I like the way you move through this - a thought processing that works well.
Posted by: Tumblewords | 26 June 2008 at 12:10 PM
Yeah, I think you've got something there, I like the way you title it "Why cut your hair?" but can you live with it?
Posted by: Sweet Talking Guy | 26 June 2008 at 02:11 PM
I, too, like the transition from thinking about your hair to noticing the flowers, to thinking about your hair. it's often the way our minds work...
I am growing my hair (for Locks of Love), too, and sometimes experience just what you mention. I had not thought to write a poem about it but it works so well here!
Posted by: pauline | 26 June 2008 at 07:22 PM
If only hair grew like summer's flowers - stronger and brighter, instead of thining and greying.
Posted by: stan ski | 27 June 2008 at 07:11 PM
i enjoyed this - grow and give my hair away myself, i've done it three times now. you could find something about the sweat on the back of the neck perhaps. thank you
Posted by: barbara | 28 June 2008 at 06:23 AM