Last of her Lashes

I
The last of her lashes falls out,
curved in her palm —
a closed bracket.
When her daughter asks
Where have your eyelashes gone?
She replies They've flown south
for the winter.

II
Which wig to wear today?
The Angelina Jolie? The Marilyn Monroe?
She picks one with long, flowing tresses,
feels like Lady Godiva.
And as with that famous horsewoman
the crowd look away
the moment she passes by.

III
She's read the Navajo Indians
never cut their hair
believing their thoughts
preserved in the strands.
She touches her scalp;
like a freshly sown lawn —
a crop of new memories sprouts.


Marianne Musgrove (South Australia)