Vietnam War Poetry: A Hum in the Living Room

A Hum in the Living Room by Lenard D. Moore

One morning Daddy, just home from Vietnam,
came in the living room and sat in his chair.
I sat waiting on the shabby stool,
hair clippers in my hand.
I turned the clippers on
before handing it to him.
It hummed like honeybees.
He jerked back against the chair.
It was the first time
he'd heard it hum in a year.
How terrible to see his face turn red,
and hear him gasping.
He gradually straightened up,
asked me to hold my head still,
and considered the part he wanted to cut.
I turned around on the stool,
frightened, squinting,
dreading the next haircut.