Lucky the onlooker

photo: Dora Kazmierak


Morning mirror, first critical stare,

then wonder-woven her plaited hair:

I’m gut punched – such creative care.


Humming and hawing but never plain,

memorably brushed her gamine mane:

I’m drab dullard, alpha-male brain.


Blessed by such girlish grace,

blond strands woven, ply in place:

please turn around, show shy face.


Lucky onlooker when braids unbind:

quaking as tumbling tresses unwind,

intoxicated man, unbalanced in mind…


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