Anybody missing a little something where there used to be more eyebrow?
You probably have never thought of me as a poet – and chances are good this poem won’t change your thinking. But you just might be able to relate! I call this literary work:
THE SHIFTING SANDS OF HAIR: ODE TO AN EYEBROW
Where, oh where, have my eyebrows gone?
There used to be hair over my eyes!
But now there’s just wisps,
Eyebrows that lisp –
Results? No expression when I cry.
There’s nothing to scrunch when
I have a hunch.
There’s nothing to raise in surprise.
There’s nothing to bunch
When I’m ready to punch
And no frame for the stars in my eyes.
Bare spots over my eyes
Where there used to be hair
Reflected on the face in the mirror.
Where’s the hair?
Did it just disappear?
Maybe I just need to get nearer.
What is that there?
Under my nose?
Could it be the start of a rash?
The closer I stare,
I see it is hair –
My eyebrows reborn as a ‘stache.