One Bright Wire

Pulling back the wet dark mass,

just for the shower, a hurried swipe.

And then, right there, caught in the glass,

a single, gleaming, stark white stripe.

Not hidden, not tucked deep inside,

but brave, or foolish, at the front.

Stiffer than the rest, it could not hide,

a tiny, silver, silent shunt

into what's next. A quick, sharp, cold surprise.

My thumb and forefinger, poised to pluck.

But something held my hand, right at my eyes.

A small, bright proof of dwindling luck.

I let it be. A glinting, foreign thing.

Against the dark, a tiny, brittle sting.