I stood outside on a windy day
and ran my fingers through my hair.
Long strands of silky threads
blew across the lawn.
They glistened in the sun,
too many to count.

I imagined a nest,
lined with my mane,
woven by a mama bird.
The babies nestled,
snug inside,
warmed by my fallen tresses.

Now on the wintry nights,
when my head is cold
I pull my wool cap
over my ears and smile
as I dream of baby birds
sleeping in my hair.