Challenging Poetry

wash and wear

Every day I wash my hair
and comb it tame,
until it hugs my head—close
and straight like a skullcap,

but as it dries it curves
into a mess of tendrils,
loops, and squiggles, coiling
and twisting organically,

forming a soft mass of
brunette and gray curls,
so I grin at my wild self
in the mirror.

April 4—Personal grooming