Rusty Roots

January 20, 2010 § 9 Comments

    A brief trip into my unconscious (not worked much, just dumped): 

    Last night I had a nightmare –
    my hair was freshly dyed and swung
    in a charcoal bob beneath my chin.

    Straight and sleek as a seal’s,
    it was nothing like my own.
    I cried and checked the mirror

    every time I could, as I ran from
    room to room trying to find myself.
    But each reflection was the same,

    and soon I saw the worst: rusty roots
    where my fingers had not reached
    my scalp. Not even silver, I thought.

    All these years and not one silver thread remains.


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    § 9 Responses to Rusty Roots

    • rallentanda says:

      I think your dream reflects hair salon anxiety.Going to a hair stylist is like going to the dentist.The next hairstylist I go to is going to have to undergo an IQ test along with solicitors accountants and doctors.

    • Neil Reid says:

      Ha! Shall hair bring us to our knees? I gotta laugh – maybe I’ve come to some peace on the issue, but for the first years as my hair began taking a vacation, I swear I could run my hand across my head and felt the hair just like before. And who believes those lying mirrors anyway! Really. It was what I expected to feel – and I did.

      (And ssshh… I never said this, but I love your silver hair. Sssh.)

      And Mary’s right, great line, room to room. You do good dreams!

    • mary says:

      “as i ran from room to room trying to find myself” – gorgeous, no matter what.

      as a brunette, when i was platinum for the theatre in my 20’s i would look in the mirror and think “who is that?”

      • Mary, I still think of myself as a very dark brunette, even though I’ve been more silver than black for years. It shocks me when I see a photo. And I feel…brunette. I understand that dissonance.

    • Very cool poem! I’ll be happy to have white, gray or rusty hair in another 15 years! Did you eat pizza right before bed?

    • bschooled says:

      I love this, Pamela.

      I always have dreams that I dyed my hair and it turned out green. But I’m pretty sure there was no underlying message. I just think it’s my subconscious reminding me what happened the last time I tried to do it myself.

      • bschooled, I did dye my hair once, years ago, for an audition. I was barely salt and pepper then, but had a horizontal skunk streak for years afterwards.

        So maybe this is really only…hair fear. :-)

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