A palm sweeps up the nape and takes it all Every strand leans toward one point The band goes round once and once again A pinch at the root where the pull is tightest Temples tight and the hairline taut Short hairs stand loose at the nape Each lit on one side only A draft turns them all one way The band holds and the weight hangs still Below the band thick as a wrist Straight back at first Gaps widening every inch Then weight takes over and it bows Outer edge long and inner edge tight One long bar of light lies down the length It slides when she turns her head Thins at the bend and pools at the round Dull where the strands cross under She steps and the weight swings late Overshoots the stop and settles The strands draw in at the ends A few bend the other way One or two split off and hang alone Thin color with the light coming through The ends keep moving when the rest is still
