As a boy, I always liked to see pigtails.
Little Black girls on display.
My Mom knows how to take care of her daughter is what the pigtails say.
I’ll always love to see little pigtailed girls. I understand the work that it took. My sisters didn’t always enjoy the process as they squirmed and wiggled, and shook.
Neat parts crisscrossing the head drove me nuts. Groups of shiny black hair freshly greased.
Decorations for each section with a barrette of color.
Now, if she skipped too, I was always pleased.
Pigtailed girls strutted proudly about the schoolyard. Giving chase to the ones they love, or quietly reading in the corner of the class, disregarding the tease or the shove.
Let there always be the little pigtailed girls full of laughter, joy, and fun.
And if they have them in a woman size I’m sure I’d marry one.