constraints

shackles of plant-life,

wound around and into her being,

keeping her where she was,

safe and free from decision,

they kept her where they wanted her,

at home.

but she cut off the locks

of flowers

fused and infused in her

dandelion hair,

let it fall to the floor

in chunks and clumps.

and stay there still.

while she leaped and bounded about,

free from the vines that had held her there,

secured to the ground

and her future.

free from anything

but decisions that she must make,

regardless of the length

or texture

of her sheared hair.