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Duck Fluff

It blows in the wind
practically transparent
standing up on end
it can't be tamed
won't be contained....

Your hair
so golden in the sun
as to almost be translucent
the light catching it
like fine threads of
golden silk
glowing
radiating the light back at me

They tell us
it will grow better
just cut it, it will...
but to part with this piece of you
which is so uniquely yours
would be stealing a bit of your
childhood
your babyhood
right out from under you.
I refuse to be that one.

I revel in your crazy hair,
your stand on end, do what it wants hair
your still-not-a-ponytail's worth of hair
your rooster reminder hairdo...
your lightest shade of brown
duck fluff
your tangle of snarls that stick to your head
half rubbed off on the back where you sleep,
front and bottom and sides so much longer
your own style...

You had it right from the beginning.

I bury my face in it and promise, I whisper to you
I'll let it be yours, that infantile oh so precious style, until I can't get away with it any longer...
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