Sweet Potato Haircut

I go for a walk at twilight,

acknowledging guilt for spending most nights

alone in my room by dinner time and

wondering if I should be different.

I hear the mourning doves,

their solitary sounds filling the sunset sky

and wonder what they’re saying

if they’re speaking to the fading day

wishing it would stay, or waiting for the dark

so they can finally see the stars. 

Call my mum on the phone and she

reminds me that to be alone

is to marvel at the universe that is 

me, the long, bright hallways from

my feet to my hips, the cavern

of my chest rhythmic and sincere

with the power of aliveness

pulsing through me- 

and I think

what other way to celebrate

this masterpiece of existence in me

than to settle in and 

watch the world inside myself with wonder.