An Agnostic Gets A Shave In Pakistan - Poem by David Wright
A sunny, late summer day
in a wooden chair in 1963
outside in a mountain valley.
The barber has one eye
and a straight razor
in his right hand
and He stands over me,
I grin up at Him and I lift my neck
for Him to shave under my beard
and He grins back.
At least it could have been Him,
but we don't speak the same language
so I wonder if this might be so,
and had I just met Him through this
one-eyed barber in Kaghan Valley.
I still don't know if He and I
speak the same language.
But we might have grinned once.
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