The Girl Who Had Pele's Hair - Poem by Joseph DeMarco
The beautiful young red head
moves in mysterious ways
as she pulled her lava orange stick of wax
from her box of crayons
She is not a girl
actually more of a woman
Yet something in her eyes
is where the secret lies
In the Hawaiian sunset her hair twists and turns
rips and burns
like rivers of burning lava
trust me when I say
'The Past is Today'
Part of Pele is in her
The red head sharpens her crayon
smiling to herself
'I used to have a box of crayons
like that when I was little, ' says the teacher next to her
His face is strained and stressed,
A perfect contrast to the girl
'I used to get upset when my crayons
wore down to nubs, ' says the teacher.
The girl with the lava hair smiles,
'You still do, ' she says softly.
The teacher looks at her,
his eyes far away.
Years later the teacher stops his car,
on a rural road, next to an old lady walking,
The old lady's formerly red hair replaced,
by Pele's grayish silver ash.
The teacher rolls down his window,
The old lady smiling through missing teeth.
'Do you need a ride? '
The Teacher asks the old lady.
The old lady looks down the open road.
She shakes her head.
The teacher smiles with tears in his eyes,
And a feeling that will not go away,
remembering the past today.
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