Braid

Originally posted 3/21/2010.

Silent now
after a yapping lifetime,
silent
and happy,
sitting on a rock 
by the shore,
naked except for 
my long gray hair,
happy to be called upon
only now and then
when my particular gray is needed
to color a braided rope 
someone is making
to moor their ship
when it comes in
or to dangle from
high on a cliff
on their way
from bottom to top.

With time, one learns
what one can give
without losing oneself
entirely, without the need
to discuss, criticize,
or loudly hate either 
the folly
or the fools 
who live it; so

I cut a lock for them to use
without another word,
knowing it will be so long 
before I’m asked again,
I’ll have time to grow it back;
silent, happy
to be needed so seldom
for so little.