I have to admit that concerning hair
I’m prejudiced. A good head of hair –
a thing that I prize – runs in my family.
Even my mother, at ninety-four –
same fringe and bob she wore as a girl –
sheds sufficient white hair to decorate
the blue carpet and clog up the vacuum cleaner.
My daughter’s – long, black and curly –
distributed in clusters along the rim of the bath
which no longer empties so
I need to call a plumber.