Old Hats

She wears them, if not well
brim pulled to brow
weary of how
they become
when it rains.

She trades them, not for tip
but song
patching edges that fray
wanting to stay
in her own
fragile skin.

She holds them, if not close
within reach
dons the familiar hues
wishing to loose
to the wind;
waits for her crown.




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3 Responses to Old Hats

  1. I’ve just indulged, indeed! I saved all of your posts to read all at once, such a treat, de! So impressed with your artful style and well placed words (as I also stated @ Poetic Bloomings)! Thank you for sharing your voice with us, de, such a gift! Smiles and blessings to you!

  2. Lindy Lee says:

    “Old Hats”– good write…

Use your words.

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