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only one kept her curls
My mother’s curls were teeny tiny, ringlets of gray
Tightly wound, as if they had been set around toothpicks
My sister and I had golden curls until we were two.
They gave us a haircut, and that was the end of them.
Our brother had curls, but they embarrassed our father.
He did not think he looked like a real boy with them.
I think he was relieved when Richard’s toddler head was shaved.
Our father never had a curl; his hair was thick and stiff.
Five people living in the same house.
Only one kept her curls.
Copyright ©
Caren Krutsinger
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