Her hair was too long for her age,
thick and heavy, a platinum wave.
She was all hair.
Two weeks ago she came to work with a cut
above her ears,
like a salon model.
Last week in a team meeting she joked
how she could pull it out in swatches.
Look . . . it doesn’t hurt.
We made her stop.
She wore a black hat on Wednesday
with a floppy brim and a red rose in the center.
Yesterday it was a saucy denim one
with a papery orange poppy.
We traded lipsticks in the lounge,
adjusted hats . . . not a wisp of blonde.
She has a season pass for the theater,
tickets to the Dixie Chicks,
family leave for the next round,
a calendar full of events.