A few errant fibers bristle
from the fallow field
below my chin, waving goodbye
to more subtle golden fuzz,
that once hummed in spring’s
soft hormonal breezes.
In blatant disregard
of harsh depilatories,
bleaching creams, and tweezers,
these outlaw strands fly free,
battle banners
raised above years ripened
past their summer prime.
For now is the autumn
of more brutish shoots –
stiff dark hairs that defy
any downward drag
and thrust outward, splayed fingers
reaching toward dreams
muscles fatigued in the fight
against gravity can no longer grasp.
These hairs mark my last attempt
to step up to the edge of etiquette
and shout a challenge,
my final foray into impudence.

—

Karin L. Frank is an award-winning author from the Kansas City area. Her poems, including haiku, and prose have been published in both literary journals and genre magazines in the U.S. and abroad.