The first Cut
the silver river glitters
molten current I cannot fight.
not that it pulls you against your will.
you have already made your choice,
turned your back to swim for another shore.
relinquished me to whirlpool blues.
sitting in the hairdressers I see red
my reflection ignores ribbons of steam
curling from my head
the stylist asks
wash and blow?
sharply firmly no I said
“cut it, cut it all off please”.
Yvonne MC CALLA

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