Poetry

Haircut

My heart flutters like a small bird

‘Til I chasten myself and think

“Calm down, Lauren, oh my word.”

It is simple and’ll be done in a blink.

Walking into the salon, I greet

My hairdresser and tell her what I want.

“I want to donate, so keep it neat.”

She nods and leads me, with a jaunt,

Sweeps me to the chair soft as a bed.

Talking casual, she starts to cut and snip

I feel a foot of hair separate from my head

I realized she cut more than the tip.

Handing me a blond animal tail

I laugh and hope this haircut’s not a fail.

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