The lads are getting their Christmas haircuts.
Curly pine needles are dropping to the floor,
one geezer gets a tinsel fringe,
and two bauble are waiting on a sofa to be polished.
They’re arguing about the taste of sprouts
and whether you should open presents
before or after your Christmas dinner
and if they’re excited for the King’s Speech.
I nod and tut and laugh when appropriate
but mainly wonder why I only call
my sideburns ‘sideys’ to the barber.

Carl Burkitt 2023