Hair In My Eyes

Hair In My Eyes Again makes me wonder

If like Sampson it means I’m getting stronger,

Or like a goat just that I’m getting older

and my woes longer and more immediate.


The skin on my toes is a different colour

to that of my feet and legs around the nails

which scratch my legs in bed. This will need

to be sorted  if I intend sharing my bed again.


My hands are a thing of beauty, they just require

an artist’s touch to bring out the juice of carved wood

and slender branches that make up its tendons

and capillaries, bone and nerve ending.


One day when this is all just dust will I live on

in some other way? On another day will this bring a tear

to my eye or to that of my children’s who are still a

mere series of twists in their father’s genetic spirals?