A Convicted Man Confesses

I find myself embarrassed by my hair
Not by that which I have but rather by
That part of it which seems no longer there
And orients my temples to the sky

But when it all grows back from summer's buzz
In familiar forgiving disarray
All will fall into place the way it was

Until the next impulsive summer day

I might as well forget it now because
The next impulse will be a year away
I will wash and comb whatever I can

When in summer I buzz my hair I say:

"This looked better as a boy than a man
Before all those coerced 'yes'es
A convicted man confesses"

+Steven Curtis Lance



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