Quill #52 - Trim (2010)

Fifteen years I spent growing that braid. Brushed it often, kept my
Hair soft and strong, all one length and even. In that space of time,
I lost my mother, buried my father, moved four times, raised a
Daughter, said farewell to a son, gained a grandchild, his loving
Mama, lost Grandma, two aunts, cousin to cancer, developed
Diabetes and heart disease. Three pets died, gained two more and,
In all that time, I never thought I would cut it again so
Casually, as if it meant nothing to me, when that was
My only pride but how could you say no to a child without
Tresses at all? I sent fifteen inches, one for each year, to
Locks of Love, through the salon. And they sent me a postcard that
I should frame and hang, saying thank you, thank you, for growing hair,
A most valued skill. I wonder what the child will look like who
Wears the empty space from around my head, and whether fifteen
Inches will bring them, like reverse voodoo, fifteen years more life.

Quill #19 - Comforter (2010)

I saw him balance a chair,
On top of a solid wooden desk,
Using one finger of his right hand,
While explaining potential energy.

At night he would recline.
I would climb into sturdy embrace and,
Entranced by the sun-ghosted hair
On his ticklish forearms,
Gently pull strands,
Not knowing how they tugged at his heart.
Body and mind entwined, he never protested.

Annoyed by the same treatment,
A husband doesn't see the china doll in his wife,
Until another blithe sprite comes along
To cajole threads one by one
From a fabric unfrayed by time.