The stool sat in the middle of the utility room,
centered, it seemed tall to me.
He used it to stand on
when painting the ceiling
or changing a light bulb,
hanging christmas lights.
Mostly it was used for this,
all the boys would line up,
the clippers where plugged in
resting on the counter
waiting for him to begin.
I stood in the doorway,
he didn't cut my hair.
My brother would climb up on the stool,
the youngest was always the first,
the older boys were in the back of the line.
He would begin to talk, suddenly
the room changed it became more
an adventure to be heard,
we were all quiet, attentive to his story.
As we listened his voice would change,
it seemed magic,
he would smile, laugh then wink at us.
Pretty soon all the boys had their hair cut.