Curls
Sweaty baby hairs curling against my forehead The nurse comes to check and says, “It’s almost time. I feel his hair.” I am overwhelmed. Try as I might, I could never quite guess how you would look. Suddenly I imagine one unequivocal feature. You have hair. And you are FINALLY almost here. Dark curls They cover your scaly, oblong, newborn head. “Of course that’s what you look like,” I think, as they place you on my chest. I realize you’re no stranger to me. Within weeks, the dark curls fall out; leaving naught but a ring fit for an octogenarian. In time they grow back, blonde now. Baby curls Mussy, messy, matted, mop scintillating in the sunrise streaming in as you scrub sleep from sweet little eyes. Soft curls; fluffy, unruly, and just as perfect as you. Bath time curls Slicked straight, dripping droplets onto little eyelashes while you splish and splash; then hooded under a towel, “Peek-a-boo!” Scrubbed and brushed and dewy, baby curls at