1. .

    The Final Fall

    Be careful with that comb. There’s not a whole lot of us left, don’t you know? And my root is getting weaker as the years pass.

    Ahh, I think the comb is going back into the basket. But what’s this?! Don’t scratch there!! Arrrgghh!!

    I’m falling! I’m falling! Into the sink I go! Well, at least I’m not falling alone. Got lots of my old friends this time. Guess this is the end, y’all.

    Oh, no, not the faucet! You know we can’t swim! Blub! Blub! Goodbye cruel world!

  2. Bird’s Nest Hair

    I’ve been around quite a bit in my lifetime. Of course, just as a passenger on a well-groomed head. I’ve even been a good many colors but my favorite is what I am right now – red. I had lots of friends though it depended on the way my person styled me which ones I was with. Most were really nice, but there were some that were always stuck up. They got a good dose of hair spray so they just mostly stuck together.

    I guess I’d always taken my life for granted. At least, till that day when I was swinging along in the breeze. Then, the next thing I know I’m flying, gliding, whirling free. That didn’t last long. I got caught in a cross wind and snagged on a limb. I can’t remember how long I was pinned there, all alone, in sun, rain, dark of night. Seemed like a long, long time.

    Then, one day a bird grabbed me in his mouth and flew with me to a high branch where he had almost finished a nest. He carefully weaved me into the bed of twigs and moss. I was quite comfortable when his wife flew in and settled down on me. She laid four beautiful pale blue eggs, so we spent a lot of time together. Then, one morning I awoke to cheeping sounds. There were four, hairless, ugly little critters on me. Over time they grew and, thankfully, grew feathers. They were my pride and joy, my reason for living.

    I was sad when they flew away. Now, I can’t wait till next year when we do this all over again!

  3. Panoramic View

    I am a wavy lock,
    you would be
    shocked to see
    light the way
    I do. You afford
    me a panoramic view
    of all other strands
    as well. Sometimes
    I lay curled against
    your cheek, and touch
    the softness I see.
    It’s nice being a long
    strand, because the
    shorties wind up
    next to your ear,
    occasionally falling
    in. Very waxy in there,
    I’m told. I am a wavy
    lock, I would be
    in shock if you cut
    me off.

  4. Snagged

    Her mouth is a perfect O
    like the Edvard Munch painting
    I saw once in the gallery when
    she flipped me over her shoulder
    as she chatted to the man beside her

    But now her screams are chopped
    quatrains and triplets
    unrhymed endings that make
    me tremble here where I’m impaled
    on a thorn of smilax as she fled

    past me her words running rampant
    spiraling up and out unmetered feet
    running running wild blackberries
    her eyes shrouded my siblings now
    as I wave in the hot wind where

    her fists bound bark as she sobs
    out her heart against the leaves
    almost against me no poetry now
    just ragged iambs angry anapests
    desperate dactyls on the wind

    that if it lifted me just a bit more
    I could touch her cheek that soft
    caress she misses as I watch.

  5. LAST HAIR STRANDING, by Walter J Wojtanik

    I’ve been abandoned,
    Left alone without companions.
    Where once we flourished
    And were nourished,
    Our pate has near completely departed.
    We started in a mass multitude,
    A teeming brood in a forest of follicles
    Hale and hearty and hardly a patch
    Of flesh to be seen. But, Now
    I am an island, a seemingly solitary strand
    Of hair surrounded on all sides by skin.
    I’m all in. I’m all that’s there.
    A victim of MPB gone awry.
    I’m the only guy left,
    Should I go, this guy will be bereft of hair.
    If I could, I would go pluck myself.
    But I am a single useless strand.
    I have no hands so here I stand.

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