I have a silver arm hair.
I didn’t know until I was resting outside on my break and
a fly took a rest on my skin.
It looks otherworldly as it glistens in the sun,
the only one of its kind in a forest of black trees.
I hope the other hairs see it and
become jealous of its shine and
decide they cannot be left behind
such high fashion and new trends.
Let it take over every place that hair grows and
begin at the top of my head.
Let it spread down to that hidden place
where those who go to pray share their worship with a kiss.
Let no hair miss the chance to pretend to wise-
I want an old lady’s tresses to hide youth’s unknowing eyes.