Sunday, August 9, 2015

The Hat … and some small poems

The Hat

one day long ago
in a place that is no longer 
on any map
she went out for a stroll
along a wooded path

she wore a hat 

she did not intend to attract attention

when the rains came she was far from home
she couldn't see the path in front of her
not even her own hand
held up close to her eyes

and what's more 
her hat 
was lost

just when she most wanted her hat
at the very moment when she really needed that hat
the reason why she got that hat in the first place
the purpose of the hat
the essence of the hat
the hatness of the hat

it was

she was swallowed up by the rain


the tip of her nose turned red

her earlobes

she was overcome with sorrow

we are talking about her now

but also we are talking about the hat

have you ever known a hat to feel 
sorry for itself?


it happens that way sometimes

this is one of those times

small poems:

waiting waiting waiting being

in this moment only the lake no past no future

elephant clouds tail to trunk lazy afternoon

meditation teacher talks talks talks talks talks about silence

crossing the bridge stop breathe hello ducks

nose to nose with a bee i step back from the flower

lonely day spending hours among the heavy clouds

counting breaths starting over starting over yet again

morning walk two white butterflies look familiar

high summer letting go one word at a time

it cools me off reading winter poetry

a different hat each morning a new me

July pillow seeking a cool spot on either side

silly typo mother corrects me with an emoticon

tall grasses in old beer bottles 
(and one cigar butt) 
my neighbor's porch