The Hair Cut

On the eve of starting high school, today, my 11 year old daughter has had a hair cut for the first time. Naturally, I am dealing with feelings by hiding in the garden where she cant see me cry and writing a poem to share with strangers, rather than let her see those nicks in the thinning umbilical chord the scissors made.

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My daughter cut her hair today.

The baby blond ends fell away and left blunt, squared strands,

In a line. No evidence of the topsy turvey frazzling, dazzling decade

Discarded on the linoed floor. I gathered it up and in tipping forward,

Sprung a leak I tried to stem with smiles and punchy platitudes.

It looks great. So much healthier. Stronger. Ready for high school.

And in my hand her childhood curled, soft, untamed.

Finished with.