Wise Hair Kid
I shaved your beard outside
snip and snip and then buzz.
Your dense facial storm clouds are surprisingly light
in their overgrown glory.
The wind licks them up and carries them to new lands
the dandelion seeds of a man's face
or just dead cell apostrophes
or a shotty hedge trimming by Lover's Landscaping.
I can peek through the holes
to your secret brain garden party
as my pigtails flop running through the corn maze
where we meet again as children faces.
