Second Time Around: Ode to follicles and strands I could not keep

 by M. James Cooper

My crown is now loc'd upon my head and I am satisfied.

Satisfied with the way it is and the way it looks and the ways it could be. No slipping through my fingers, no easy breezy flow.

Twisted, knotted, shinned and ready to make matted matters, because I and you matter brother and sister, we always did. I, and you too, wear the crown.