Hair styles
Hair colors
Hairdos
Hairfall
Blonde
Brunette
Redhead
Grey
Or just black
A few strands of which
I found in her comb
In one untravelled recess of wardrobe
An untouched memento
From past two decades
Not graying
Not growing
Undeclined
Undestroyed
black and thick
the only relic
for her son!
As Valsa says, your poem suddenly deepens into a very moving end. In the wardrobe you found treasure, and in simple words you express a beautiful tribute.
The hair is a reminder of a joy gone, I fear! From a casual tone, the poem suddenly takes a serious tone and culminates in pathos! A great write!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi all