It wasn't the hair I was worried about - This is obvious to the onlookers as I allowed a seven year old to cut it - it was the beard I had concerns over. It survived the seven year old shearing.
Had I done it I would look a little different on top but he insisted and I like to encourage - so I am closely cut and all the scars on my head from years of flying through windshields, hitting pavement (M/Cycle) and one golf club to the top, are now showing.
I am not loved for the scars but because I managed to grow despite them.
Cold all night due to blanket in wash. White summer blanket used when I was younger now barely covering my shoulders to shoes, pulled taut between and wrestled within for some semblance of insulation. I did not wish to awaken my lover so I didn't get close enough to prod the embers of my outer layer.
chicago poetry. poetry for a people. poetry for a moment. poetry to satiate the need. poetry of an american outlaw. poetry for the best words in their best order. poetry by Jhon Baker
Sunday, June 26, 2011
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Must give two thumbs up to your boy's shearing job. You are a brave man. Even at 15, I don't think that I would let mine near me shears.
ReplyDeleteI love the idea that scars can promote growth.
It looks to me like he did a good job.
ReplyDeleteEach scar, a badge of honor...
David Crosby, yeah?