A Strand of HairA Poem by emipoemiA strand of hair sprouts ev’ry day To join the others on your head. So shall it grow, and slowly grey ’Til under grave conditions shed. These strands of hair thus represent The total days that mark your years. And all of them remain content ’Til Atropos prepares her shears. For cutting them does nothing to The aging process they go through. Though waves of white on top of you (To warn of what shall soon ensue), And though obscured, strands still would sprout, And only when the last is white Shall you see all the lights go out And whisper to the wind: Good night. -EDP © 2019 emipoemiReviews
|
StatsRelated WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|