Lice & Pentecost

she let down her hair
golden rivers flowing to earth
and the women gathered around

seeking with suspicious white fingers
combing carefully through yards
of golden fleece

seeking signs of a tenacious evil
visited upon their children

they wept and lifted their voices
to on one high as their hands
wandered through the sunshine silk
of her imagination

pleas of mercy filled the room
fit to burst until at last
they had seen the last
pale strand clean

they softly shouted praise
with weary smiles then

she was clean
there was nought
to keep her from revival