Poems by Veron Lee Campbell

Hair Phase

A shaft is born and pushes through

in ana-, cata-, telogen.

The cycle ends, it comes to view.

A shaft is born and pushes through.

Upon its death, one starts anew.

The cycle ends and starts again.

A shaft is born and pushes through

in ana-, cata-, telogen.

Epilator Operator

She views the client’s consultation card.

The next hirsute she has is not a teen.

She took a break to have a bite between.

Her clientele has grown; she works so hard.

In quite exquisite coat she moves toward

the cabinet, refills her stock with clean

supplies. A room invitingly serene.

The helps she gives so many has reward.

With gloves on hand, with gauze she cleans the face.

The temperature and time are set to start.

With probe in hand and skin held taut to find

the hair to epilate o’er time erase

the patch. She works with passion from her heart,

and seeks to give her clients peace of mind.


Winning the Race

(At A Glance)

With skillful hands she wins the race

and in her place

a bed and stool

in her hand a tool

with which she makes her move to clear

a field of hair

upon the chest

or near the breast

or nape of neck, the chin, the brows

hairline or toes

intent to treat

from head to feet


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