Soon I will be 16 again
with hair to my waist,
16 again, 18 maybe, or 20
when I ran free, surrounded by young suitors,
my school books in my bag
I had things to do , places to go.
I left my hair on the floor of a salon
when my arms were full
a baby on my hip
no time to even run my fingers
through my hair
Today, at 62, my hair is almost to my waist
I will soon hold my grand daugher on my hip
my school books are long gone, or collecting
dust in the basement
There are suitors,
but I live with one.
I will soon be free.
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