Back in the day
before elderly women
preferred to become blonde,
grey turning to blue was common.
“Look at that lady there, she’s got blue hair.
Look, mummy!” he said loudly,
“I don’t like blue hair, do you!”
as she squirmed with embarrassment.
Blue was a dead give away
of aged artifice
as, unlike blonde
natural hair can never be blue,
it doesn’t bend the light like feathers
to make that specialist refraction
So it was a dead give away
But sometimes that’s perfect,
perfectly fit for purpose.
“Look at the horses in that painting.
they’ve got blue hair!
Look, mummy, look” he shouted,
“I like their blue hair, don’t you?
It makes my imagination real!”
She laughed in agreement
and thought there was an artist in the making.
About the Author: Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud ‘War Poetry for Today’ competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Apogee, Firewords, Peach Velvet, Light Journal and So It Goes. Find Lynn at: https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn–White-Poetry-1603675983213077/
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Image Credit: Samuel Gottscho “Helena Rubinstein, 655 5th Ave. Hair dryers” (1961) The Library of Congress (public domain)