5 Extra Minutes During Shloshim (An Ode to Not Shaving)

I’ve got five extra minutes during shloshim When on most days I would have been shaving I’ve got five extra minutes during shloshim As a consequence of how I’m behaving I’m letting the hair grow forth from my face As my sadness and solace keep pace The tearing inside ebbs and flows Like the torn ribbon once pinned on my clothes That torn fabric no longer will sit Atop the breast of my shirt or my coat But beneath, my heart’s torn asunder And a cry still gets caught in my throat So my beard I let grow as it chooses As I go through my morning ablutions As I try to recharge my inner juices As I attend to my emotional bruises As the world turns back to its norm Do I look like an ancient recluse? Stepping back, licking wounds, saying prayers Inching forward in a life still reduced Yes, I’ve got five extra minutes during shloshim When on most days I would have been shaving I’ve got five extra minutes during shloshim For the memories that this mourning’s engraving What to do with those five extra minutes Shall I reflect, shall I mourn, shall I pray? Shall I read, advocate or relax? With what intention shall I refocus my day? In the five minutes I choose to withdraw To remember the things that I saw As his child, the challenges and the joy Of being his son, his eldest boy In those five extra minutes each morning My heart seems to have much to say As I wade through the emotional debris Until I shave again on thirtieth day   **Shloshim refers to the 30 days after the funeral when a mourner slowly expands the place within the community

Explore more poetry about mourning Papa (my dad, Ken Kipnes). Watch my videos about mourning Enjoy more of my spoken word poetry