Old Hair
Joy S. Barefoot
My hair is thinner;
new tweaks and turns.
A cow’s sure been licking;
old directions, it spurns.
Some days it’s so flat;
like I’ve few hairs at all;
others, it fluffs
and is “Alfalfa”* tall.
I’ve not given up.
We wrestle each day.
One thing is for certain;
It has its own way.
(*Name of a young boy
in Spanky’s gang whose unruly hair stood up on his crown)
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