Wednesday, January 09, 2013

Haircut (Or, That Thought I Had When I Looked Into The Mirror)

The mirror always looks younger
In the aftermath of a haircut:
Brown strands of time,
No longer hanging from my head
Rather, lying hacked in heaps.
Tufted burial mounds,
Honouring the remains of weeks
This face will never see again.

No comments:

Counselling is a Lie

 Counselling is a lie You cannot hold space. Space is breathed Moved in Inhabited Moved within Space is sized Larger, smaller Sometimes too ...