Not to Blame My Hair by Dawn Ellis

My hair is naturally curly now.
It never has been before.
When my children were young,
When I was a single, working mother,
When I delivered my children
To their father every other weekend
And spent those weekends missing the kids,
And planted myself on the couch, watching movies,
My hair was straight . . . and flat.
Not to blame my hair,
But I was spent,
And my hair was limp,
Like I felt.
I would look in the mirror and say to my hair,
“I understand.”
Years passed,
Flat years,
Until I gave up the couch,
Gave up the movies.
I took up golf.
I learned to paint.
I danced like no one was watching.
I made friends with a lady who wore big sunglasses,
And a wide-brimmed straw hat.
She laughed loudly, at everything.
I learned to laugh at everything.
The more I laughed,
The more my hair grew curly
And even bounced a little when I moved.
I grew comfortable in my own hair.