She wears them, if not well
ferociously
brim pulled to brow
weary of how
heavy
they become
when it rains.
She trades them, not for tip
but song
patching edges that fray
wanting to stay
centered
in her own
fragile skin.
She holds them, if not close
within reach
dons the familiar hues
wishing to loose
locks
to the wind;
waits for her crown.
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
Written for Poetic Bloomings: http://poeticbloomings.com/2012/02/05/old-relatives-prompt-41/
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!
“Old Hats”– good write…