For the Spiders and the Birds

For the spiders and the birds tangled in my hair
I am not sorry in the least, I have to say.
They chose me, made my skull their cluttered lair
and though I nag, I choose to let them stay.

Sometimes the cobwebs reach down to my eyes
and I am almost certain that I’m blind,
but then the birds begin to chirp such pretty lies.
Neither can give me clarity of mind.

The creatures dwelling in my hair mean me no harm.
They weave and sing and I am in their way.
Perhaps this messy, muddled head could be part of my charm
if I could learn to deal with disarray.