My father shaves still

Lately I have been seeing my father

Shaving at the bathroom mirror

I am about eight or nine

Watching in wonder

Brush slapping on cream

Razor slicing along stretched neck

Scraping cream and black bristles

Clapping his cheeks, face reddening

I am watching him like an alien.

He said that I would shave like him,

When I became a man.

I hoped that I never would.