The White Hair

By Elizabeth Smith

I gaze at the hair in my reflection:

It is evidence that I am ripening,
that my body is catching up with my “old soul.”
It is a testament that I have survived the challenge
of simply living, day after day.
It is a rite of passage from a young adult
to a true adult.
It is the first, amid the sea of dark hairs, to stand
out, a trailblazer for its soon-to-be followers.

I twist the strand around my finger
and yank it out.


Jarom said…
Wow, surprise ending; I loved it!

Popular Posts