Monday, April 23, 2012

...On Grey Hair

Oh my goodness…

Gaze I ‘pon my reality, gleaming evidence of my mortality

In amongst the thicket of kinked coils

Obstinate silver hairs

Defiant as metallic graffiti scribbled nearly everywhere

I sigh, suddenly realizing I am nearly past the springtime of my life…

See, one or two was not an oddity

Since thirteen a curiosity

Appearing here or there, thoroughly examined with great care and pride

Solid testimony of wisdom beyond my years

Oh but how quickly these seeds of knowledge have progressed into a drove

Trying to decide if I have the authority to confirm I’m getting

Old…er

Maybe I’ll develop a full white streak just like Rogue…yeah, right

Shall I dye them? Shall I try them? Shall I pry them from my scalp like a stubborn patch of weeds?

Shall I ignore them? Shall I adore them? Shall I concede?

What once was counted on one hand should now be multiplied times 4

There’s a whole section in my kitchen where there may be even more

Oh well

I must make peace with the steady exodus of the pigment from hair cells

And learn to lovingly embrace the pending, pressing, present platinum plaits