IN THE MOVE

A felt hat.

A round angel wing

molded from seasons.

Warming the think machine

while wandering the town

in winter from rains and frost

on the jacket

borrowed from a clothesline

in an alley

where last night’s party revelers

slept through a midnight rain

while some searched for fame and

dreams beyond the fingertips

beneath billboard pictures of

flat faces and souls without heart.

 

Upright, solid, faithful, covering

and holding court

with strangers,

the hat,

follows with its shadow.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s