Shaving

This is how it’s done,
with a dollop of lather,
leaving it a minute or two to soak in.

And then the blade, always sharp,
carefully cutting across the grain.
You can hear the stubble as it is cut
from your face.

Some cut slowly. You, however, are brisk,
your blade swiping hard and fast
across your face. No hesitation.

And then a rinse, washing away
the last of the lather and stray hairs,
leaving perhaps just a bit of beard,
your face once again revealed,
but not too much.

About this poem

I sometimes liken my writing to shaving, a constant cutting back to reveal what is underneath.

But not too much.

Tom