My Father’s Hats
by Mark Irwin
Sunday mornings I would reach
high into his dark closet while standing
on a chair and tiptoeing reach
higher, touching, sometimes fumbling
the soft crowns and imagine
I was in a forest, wind hymning
through pines, where the musky scent
of rain clinging to damp earth was
his scent I loved, lingering on
bands, leather, and on the inner silk
crowns where I would smell his
hair and almost think I was being
held, or climbing a tree, touching
the yellow fruit, leaves whose scent
was that of clove in the godsome
air, as now, thinking of his fabulous
sleep, I stand on this canyon floor
and watch light slowly close
on water I can’t be sure is there.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Николай Глазков – Размышленья
- Gratitudes Of A Dozen Roses
- Thoughts by Ronald G. Auguste
- Book Third [Residence at Cambridge] by William Wordsworth
- Владимир Высоцкий – Войны и голодухи натерпелися мы всласть
- Come In by Robert Frost
- Salvage poem – Amy Clampitt poems | Poems and Poetry
- Алексей Толстой – Ты не спрашивай, не распытывай
- Verses Faiz Ulla
- Calling The Spirits
- Владимир Маяковский – Гимн судье
- That Shadow, my Likeness. by Walt Whitman
- With Antecedents. by Walt Whitman
- on our conditioning by Raj Arumugam
- Life of Ms Anonymous by Raj Arumugam
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
