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
- Clouds Above The Sea by Philip Levine
- On The Lord Gen. Fairfax At The Seige Of Colchester poem – John Milton poems
- Lines to Sir John Whitefoord, Bart by Robert Burns
- Олег Бундур – Поросенок и свиньи
- Владимир Корнилов – Платформа 126-го км
- Convalescence poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- E.P. Ode Pour L’election De Son Sepulchre poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Федор Сологуб – Терцинами писать как будто очень трудно
- Past and Present by Thomas Hood
- A Winter Bluejay by Sara Teasdale
- Cuchulain Comforted by William Butler Yeats
- Олег Григорьев – На боку кобура болталась
- Shit List; Or, Omnium-gatherum Of Diversity Into Unity poem – A. R. Ammons poems | Poetry Monster
- Lady Weeping at the Crossroads by W H Auden
- Алексей Толстой – Слепой
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).
