Pixie Cut
By Terri Kirby Erickson
for my daughter
Black-eyed, black-haired girl of thirty-two,
I can see you reflected in a mirror
across the room—one of many mirrors and multiple stylists
with tattooed limbs and hennaed heads, clipping
and snipping. And I am thinking that the cloth draped
around your body, catching the sheared locks that tumble
to your shoulders, your lap, the floor, seems as sacred
as white linen on an altar table—your face emerging
like an angel sculpted from the clay
of your long, dark hair. You are smiling
because you see at last, what we all have seen—
how beautiful you are, that the woman you imagined
has arrived—
and she is and always has been, you.
Excerpted from Becoming the Blue Heron (Press 53, 2017)
Finalist, 2015 Ron Rash Award (Broad River Review)
Source: http://www.press53.com/
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