for Dickie

Of all the places I’ve cut your hair—
and if I could math, I might be able
to calculate it, but I don’t, so I won’t—

perhaps my favorites are within
sight of the sea, the ocean refilling
our spirits, saltwater and sand

reminding us from whence we
came, when animals first transitioned
from saltwater to earth more than

300 million years ago, the source
from which all life comes on this
planet we consider ours.

So where else to best apply scissors
to your straight, snowy fringe,
carrier of keratin that also makes

fingernails and DNA that makes you?
Why, on a cliff overlooking the sea,
97 percent of water on Earth, what

makes life here possible and the
planet look blue from space.
As one of our nearest and dearest

takes photos, you sit and I stand
on the continental edge, doing
what I have done hundreds

of times over our decades of
togetherness—apply silver blades
to the hair on your sweet head,

making you feel lighter, look
younger, and yes, ever more
handsome. I promise.