A hairbrush

Oh hair brush, you’ve

served me so well.

Because of you,

I have no tangles to tell

of in my wavy locks that have,

because of lockdown,

grown so long, even

covering my frown.

You’re overlooked

as an essential item

until you’re lost and

I have to buy one.

De-tangler, paddle brush or vented,

you’re part of me

and I’m never tempted

To go natural, preferring

dreadlocks, all waxed together with

my hair in knots.

You have no taste

that I can sense

but if you did it would be

a fragrance, even insence;

jasmine or orange, maybe

apple. Sweet and pleasant,

never offensive.

Looking at you is

not inspiring me to

take a photo and

make it viral. However you

will always be needed until

I die or I’m bald. So take

heart, knowing you

are loved.