Mother’s hair, red like the wine stains on a ruby colored carpet.  Mother’s hair, unbreakable like vigorous steal.  Mother’s hair, caught by your eye from miles afar.  Mother’s hair, cut as short as needle once a year, bound to her skull only a few inches away.  Mother’s hair, freely parted like the grass on a green summer day, waving as the wind goes by.  Mother’s hair, glowing like blush rose petals in the spring. 

Mother’s hair, people paying hundreds of dollars to engrave the same cherry chestnut red coloring. Mother’s hair, like no one else but genes journey there way to me.  Mother’s hair, something you can not replicate, like nothing you’ve ever seen before, mother’s hair.