The First Wire

The bathroom light is hum and buzz,

showing me things I wish it never does.

I was only trying to fix my collar stay,

before the three o'clock meeting got in the way.

Right there at the temple, stiff and bright,

a silver needle catching all the light.

A single wire sticking out from the wool,

I gave it a panicked, desperate pull.

It wouldn't give. It stayed right there,

the first dead ghost in a head of hair.

I left the mirror and walked down the hall,

feeling the ceiling start to look small.