Today’s prompt is change of perspective. My poem is going to seem “out there” if you don’t read the suggested process.
My Hair’s Covid Dreams My hair is tired of stay-at-home orders. Tired of being held back by the ties of my face mask. My hair wants to be blowing free at the beach basking in the sun. My hair wants to hang in my plate in a restaurant. My hair wants to fling around as I dance in public. My hair can’t remember the last time it was cut. It seems such a waste to wash it and comb it. Who sees it? Just a couple of people on Zoom. My hair is tired of ponytail elastics. It’s craving hair jewelry bling. It’s demanding retail therapy—and not the online kind. It wants to be dyed—not some inobtrusive color, but something sparkly and bold, something that will make people take notice. My hair wants a selfie on social media. My hair want to go viral, and not in a pandemic sort of way.