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
- Wayside Flowers by William Allingham
- Thoughts On The Works Of Providence by Phillis Wheatley
- Ольга Берггольц – Я так хочу, так верю, так люблю
- Владимир Маяковский – Студенту пролетарию
- To the Bartholdi Statue poem – by Ambrose Bierce poems | Poems and Poetry
- Владимир Корнилов – Старость
- Lines to Sir John Whitefoord, Bart by Robert Burns
- Алексей Николаевич Толстой – Приворот
- Владимир Лифшиц – Вступление
- Who by Sylvia Plath
- Николай Заболоцкий – Птичий двор
- First Sight by Philip Larkin
- Anterotics by William Ernest Henley
- Шекспир – Я лью потоки горьких слез – Сонет 44
- Robert Burns: The Calf: To the Rev. James Steven, on his text, Malachi, ch. iv. vers. 2. “And ye shall go forth, and grow up, as Calves of the stall.”
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).
