R.E. Slater - The Maestro

The Maestro

by R.E. Slater

I went to the barber to have my blonde hair lopped off,

he uses scissors, not clippers, asking how much?

I say short! Short enough to last two months!

He nods with a humph, snip-snipping away.

Shortly, swiveling me about, facing a mirror,
I see it wasn't enough and ask for shorter.

Now barbers may comply, but stylists do not,

stylists, especially, like hair longer not shorter.

Trade being what it is most barbers will agree,

if too short, no business, snip-snipping, snip-snip.

A few hairs at a time, not too many nor too much,

My pockets emptying as we spar with each other.

Snip-snip, snip-snip, each hair falls, clip, clip, clip,

the barber works 'round my head crying, “Done!”

“Look in the mirror! You couldn't ask for better!"

I do, seeing again, how desperate the strokes.

Do I ask a third time, to cut my hair shorter?

Risk a grumbling barber? Daring his ire?

Every time we meet we amiably chat. But he

knows, as I know, what the other one wants.

Not two months, I think, maybe one, looking,

till woes and wits are bantered again foul or fair.

Delighting chirping clientele, listening, snickering,

waiting their turn at the chair with grand Maestro.

Ah me! Think I, should I question the great Artiste?

My dear friend who takes such great pride in his work?

Or do I chance a third round with less results?
“Its Grand!” says I, paying coveted shekels.

Thinking, never have I met a barber
who is poorer, more clever, than I.

R.E. Slater

April 30, 2020

*Dedicated to my dear friend Jim,
ever ready to serve and befriend

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