My Night wear is angry at the wear and tear
I recall when it was worn solely at night
But since March, it’s only night wear all the time
The clothes I wore to go out lie out of sight.
Nightclothes are the attire I now always wear
My unmentionables, glad to stay hidden
Huddled all together in the dresser drawer
Rejoicing in their sudden new-found freedom.
The cosmetics also neglected, forlorn
My true colours emerge slowly, painfully
My hair may scream grey but my head is happy
Hair dyes seem frivolous, unnecessary.
The house slippers are well worn and oh so tired
My boots and high-heeled shoes, though, are well rested
My feet have never been softer and cleaner
In fancy pedicures, no longer vested.
My shoulder length hair, now a thing of the past
April began with a trim for the summer
May emboldened me to choose a drastic blunt
Come June, there I was, going for the trimmer.
And now, after my adventures so risky
Here I am, a Fifty plus, grey haired, pixie!
By Sulekha Rawat