Like most, when we were told to stay inside,
it interrupted hair cuts for a while.
Accepting that, embracing germicide,
I let my gray hair grow, and soon no style
gave me new ideas (and anyway,
who saw?) In time some cuts resumed – by then
my stylist’s life had changed, so I would stay
and she would visit, trimming me again.

But now she’s gone. She’s studying abroad.
I had to call and try somebody new
to me. This week my hesitation thawed.
I took the chair. I sighed through that shampoo.
Located in my favorite neighborhood,
the site, the person, and the cut were good.