New Year Resolutions
By my mid thirties I looked
like an old man, two thirds
of my hair a white fog.
The white hairs were like notes
warning of foreclosure,
arriving more and more frequently.
But did I change my life, set off on a yacht,
circumnavigating the globe?
No, I ignored my whitening hair.
I didn't bother with the ruse
of dyes or sprays.
When I saw my father laid out
on a gurney, his white hair
like a fright wig, his face frozen
as if pulled from an avalanche,
there it was again. Family history.
I vowed to change my life, to live
at the gym. To eat healthy.
Like my protestations of love
to a masseuse, her hands geniuses,
I had made sincere vows
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