Hanging On

The wind could blow
( and did )
ferociously;

But hair would hang on
( in place )
tenaciously –

Because of The Pound Store orange-metallic
(aerosol)
hairspray.

It cost two Pounds (actually), something
so regular,
everyday,

Cheap even. I still have the can; it’s
Empty now,
uneventful.

Yet every event me and my girls used it, we were
bullet proof-
beautiful.

Empty now, I keep it still – moved
apartments
even;

I can’t find that hairspray again
without
leaving.

Can’t keep hanging on to
empty for
miles,

So I guess I’m letting go
of something…
What?

I don’t know, but I’m certain it’ll
leave more
space.

Boxy

It snows while it’s raining,

then rains while it snows.

But this year only in spring

no winter,

though it hardly matters

when I’ve locked myself away.

I’ve sectioned and divided,

organized all that makes me,

And stack gently all the taped up boxes.

You never know, though, when I’ll

Surprise you.  I may just pop out,

all sparkling, shining, ready to go,

Like long, lost, friends

and you can have it all.