This head of hair I shaved
My scalp inhales
Breathes in the wondrous sun
Drinks rain and snow in heavy gulps
My pale skin has never been kissed
Hair falls in a lifeless heap
Piled thick
From this angle I recognize feeble dead cells
Belonging to me no longer
Graying in the grave
Zoysiagrass springs splendidly
A silk blanket letting in the breeze
Welcoming the sun and growing in the rain
Gracing my cheeks
A meadow of renewed glory
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