Braids
Claire Scott
When I was twelve
I wanted my hair cut short
Perhaps to mark changes
breast buds
bloody underwear
The hairdresser held each
Braid and snipped it. In
Seconds they lay like corpses
On her marble counter
no longer mine
no longer me
I took them home and wrapped
them in tears and tissue
Set them in my top drawer
Each morning I touched
the braids before
I went to school
When I was thirteen
I discovered wilted
Braids in frayed tissue
My life had changed
to bras
and boys
I took them to the garage
Tossed them in the trash
I told no one
I threw away
a child.
I wanted my hair cut short
Perhaps to mark changes
breast buds
bloody underwear
The hairdresser held each
Braid and snipped it. In
Seconds they lay like corpses
On her marble counter
no longer mine
no longer me
I took them home and wrapped
them in tears and tissue
Set them in my top drawer
Each morning I touched
the braids before
I went to school
When I was thirteen
I discovered wilted
Braids in frayed tissue
My life had changed
to bras
and boys
I took them to the garage
Tossed them in the trash
I told no one
I threw away
a child.
Listen to Claire read the poem here:
Working notes
This poem is based on an actual experience. I was ambivalent about puberty and I think throwing out the braids was a way to bypass the ambivalence.
About the author
Claire Scott is an award winning poet who has published in a number of literary magazines. She was nominated for the 2014 Pushcart Prize. Claire is a winner of the Arizona State Poetry Society 2013 Annual Poetry Contest. She has published or will be published in Garbanzo, Trivia, Poetry Quarterly, Stepping Stones, Epiphany, Organs of Vision and Speech, Red Savina Review, Writers Tribe Review, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, Common Threads, First Day and Sanskrit, among others. Her forthcoming first collection of poems, Waiting to be Called, will be published by IF SF Press in late 2014. Claire is a Marriage and Family Therapist with a private practice in Berkeley, CA.