The shock of finding your first gray hair.
Hers was white, and mine was brown.
She was old and I was young.
Ten years difference a lifetime.
In the looking glass I saw one white
Sitting with all my browns.
Shocked I asked, “What is her hair doing on my head?”
So I grabbed onto the stray and gave it a tug.
It fought back and bit me as it left my scalp.
How on earth, I wondered,
Did it get itself buried right in?
Currently there are no comments related to "The Stray". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
