Hair

Hair 

Like Samson, strength blossomed

     along with my tresses. My virtue

rose with these white clouds draped

around my shoulders, medium like.

Then my hair fell out after I was caught

     with Rona. My fellows'd quarreled

     as my power curled out roots.

Roots out. Curls dropped. Power went.

Miming as a dowager full of wisdom, she,

like Delilah with her womanly diligence

who struck Samson —no sage —sheared

my locks. Rape of the locks, if you care.

     Only now have I learned to rest easy

     With my absent hair: filaments all.

[sonnet]