Lockdown Poetry: Paul Henry

At this strange moment when you may be thinking about the time when you last had a haircut, here is a poem about a very first one. It is written by the Welsh poet Paul Henry and is one of a number of moving verses he’s written about paternal love, family ties and the need we all have for independence. It comes from his volume The Brittle Sea: New and Selected Poems (Seren) which is dedicated to his three sons.


Silent as cut hair falling
and elevated by cushions
in the barber’s rotating chair
this seven-year-old begins to see
a different boy in the mirror,
glances up, suspiciously,
like a painter checking for symmetry.
The scissors round a bend
behind a blushing ear.

And when the crime’s done,
when the sun lies in its ashes,
a new child rises
out of the blond, unswept curls,
the suddenly serious chair
that last year was a roundabout.

All the way back to the car
a stranger picks himself out
in a glass-veiled identity parade.

Turning a corner
his hand slips from mine
like a final, forgotten strand
snipped from its lock.

For more information about Paul Henry’s work, see:  https://www.paulhenrypoet.co.uk/



No comments yet.

Leave a Reply

Powered by WordPress. Designed by WooThemes

%d bloggers like this: