When I was born

I had an indigo purple streak 

Among a crop of bright orange hair. 

My mother was so proud of that streak

Though she had done nothing to cause it.

I was proud too

I felt so special

I loved my purple streak.

But one day it faded, like all earthly things do.

My special streak packed up and left

And now I remain

With no purple streak to make my mother proud.

When I was seven

I was taller than everyone around me

In my seven-year-old world.

I could reach up and pat the tops of skyscrapers,

And see over the tallest of mountains. 

I inherited my height from my father 

Who was so tall 

When he picked me up and carried me

Together we could brush the stars.

But one day it faded, like all earthly things do.

My father’s height gambled with the smallest straw

And now I remain

Too short to brush the stars.

When I was fresh into this world

A babe so small and fragile

I was the brightest head around

With my fiery orange hair. 

Our furious little fire engine

My dark-haired parents said with a smile.

Do you know the odds?

It seemed like a sign 

That I was spunky and unique

Full of bravery and life.

What does that say of me now?

Because one day it faded, like all earthly things do.

My hair is not brown!!

And now I remain

With no fiery orange hair to proclaim that I have defied the odds.

What will leave me next?

My intellect, my kindness?

My infatuation with learning or my passion for reading?

My Native American heritage, or my strong will to rage rebellions when I disagree?

And what of the warm brown eyes my mother gave to me 

What of the mind for solid business decisions from my father? 

Will they leave me too?

I am afraid of this person I am becoming.  

I am afraid of her 

Because she is me, all of me and none of me.