Hair

Newly born

we break through—

my brothers, sisters

and I—

into a wide new world

Here we learn

to shakily balance

shiver together

plait, play, twine

together—

swinging through life

constantly

in

the moment

Three years wise

frazzling

in Spanish sunshine

I've sung this before

this bleached chorus

but the babies

—unknowing—

spring curly

in the heat

They cry

until Mother

tends them

slathering on creams

Egg. Olive oil.

Sour-scented melon.

Pale pink putty

Which stings first, then mellows

Soothed, us siblings

crowd around

anticipating—

a snag-less glide

Protected, heat

toasts our outsides only

We are primed to swish—

I don't expect

it when I die

Others gone before me

have been far older

Dropped with warning

brains shrivelled

lagging

out of the system

When it happens, I miss

my brothers

sisters

the joy

of the morning commute—

All of us acrobats in the wind