...come short again and again

My first thought

When I saw the photograph

That haircut –

Wish I’d left it till next week

Was it not enough for me to change my shirt

From longer spring to shorter summer

Sleeves?

Did I have to shed cut hair around

Like winter snow

Or autumn leaves?

Not forgetting that bald patch

What hair I have left

Slipping back across my head

And down the back of my neck

What the heck

The big question is:

Is it the end of the beginning

Or the beginning of the end

For me?

Will I let that haircut stand in the way

Of a poetic pilgrim’s progress

Along the road of verse and worse

No matter how long

Drawn out or terse?

Will I not!

 I will continue to strive valiantly

That haircut notwithstanding

In the poetic arena

I will stumble

I will err

I will come short again and again

Like that haircut

But I know this!

Without error and shortcomings

And the occasional short haircut

Without striving to do poetic deeds

Along the road of verse and worse

I would be but in that place where

Many more cold and timid souls

Some with short haircuts

Some with much more hair than me

Will be

Who neither know poetic

Dismay or ecstasy.

Note: In part inspired by a famous speech by Teddy Roosevelt.