More Than a Barber

Booking the barbers online?
Feels vaguely feminine
Am I having my hair ‘done’?

Arrived on time
Pushed on the door
And sat down, alone

A silent one, his head
Still as a barn owl
Is in the chair

The absence of talk
Of footy, or Trump, or carburettors
Is an unusual interlude

And the silence
Like invisible honey
Circulates the room

Looking for anyone
Who wishes to
To enter in

Into the unknown.

In the background
The circumcision
Of surplus hair

Continues, the squeak
Of the barber’s shoes, the
Schink of blades

The inane radio
Saying nothing, oblivious
To the moment when

Confessions are made
Clues to some inner world
Left scattered on the floor

Forebodings, snip
Longings, snip
Hopes and dreams, snip

The barber,
Waterlogged
With our words

Like a priest,
Unburdens himself
Sighing into the night