A bagpipe’s call
wends its way
through cedars
and fog
to my porch
where I cut my hair
with clippers
and a quarter inch
guide.
Forgive me
my selfish interests
and petty happiness
both of which
passed through
the shredder
this morning.
Draped
over a chair
my white shirt
does not signal
surrender.
copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney
Umflop 