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Graceful Grey
by
Carolyn Casas


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What purpose this tragic torture
of two hours every month or so?
An ordeal to endure:
countless conversations,
booming music and dueling dryers
pouring into unfiltered ears,
like the water squirted within
when my hair is rinsed.
 
Bright lights compel me
to close my eyes,
harsh sharp smells –
dyes, shampoos, sprays and gels
all compete for air space.
 
A quasi-caustic sensation
from color plastered on scalp,
an added insult of hefty fee,
the price for elusive beauty.
What happened to gracefully growing grey?


© by Carolyn Casas.
Used with the author’s permission.

 



Carolyn Casas is a practicing Reiki Master/Teacher and a student of metaphysics and healing. She is happiest writing stories and poetry, reading, spending time with family and friends, volunteering, playing beach volleyball, and giving Reiki. Carolyn lives on the central coast of California.

 

 


Post New Comment:
barbsteff:
Being one of the faction that wears and enjoys graceful gray, I'm affirmed in my choice by this poem. Good job.
Posted 09/11/2019 12:24 PM
KevinArnold:
And here I'd thought, like men and barber shops, that trips to the hairdresser were pleasant single-gender retreats.
Posted 09/09/2019 11:15 AM
cork:
Bald is beautiful.
Posted 09/09/2019 08:16 AM


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