Gone are the sun-kissed curls of seventeen.
Prom bound, blond ringlets, wrapped tightly on top.
Loose curls flew freely, crusin' in his Carolina blue bug.
Long they laid as she learned to make love;
her curls, tucked tight under veil
witnessed marriage vows spoken,
clipped shorter, they fell, like his promises-
broken.
Gone are the sun-kissed curls of twenty-one.
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3 comments:
Love this one, especially the last line. Nostalgia is so bittersweet--I'm always trying to recapture the past so it resonates with me.
Thanks, Joanie! My writing assignment was to write about my hair which can be totally twisted at times (as you well know.) One of my favorite Shakespeare quotes is " all that is past is prologue." Thank God for photographs that keeps us connected to it.
Sherry
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