Most Likely to Steal Your Heart
Found another wild hair today.
This time, in the sink.
Not dingy like my dirty blonde.
Unforgettable auburn pink.
Felt she had been near me,
hauntings up her sleeve.
she dwells in trees.
I followed her wisps
and found her, finally,
above the fallen leaves.
Her hair, like string.
With her, a houndstooth backpack
where she stores all the things.
She steals because she's sentimental.
Don't think she means much harm.
Don't know if she means business.
Haven't been close enough to tell.
But she's small enough to not be seen,
and fierce enough to haunt our dreams
if we're not watching.
(We're usually not watching).
We get in our moods
and in our ruts and in our grooves.
And we get stuck.
She's not afraid to stir up a little trouble.
Or scrounge up something that you thought
was long gone, that you buried in the lawn.
She signs her emails with a balloon emoji.
So now that's how I do it, too.
Once you find her
try to forget her.
I'll let you know if I ever do.