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
- Woman And The Weed poem – Andrew Lang poems
- Waldenses by William Wordsworth
- My World Destroyed by Roberto Cocina
- Epistle to John Rankine by Robert Burns
- Эмиль Верхарн – Холод
- He Who Creates Re Creates Himself
- Belly Good by Marge Piercy
- Gethsemane by Rudyard Kipling
- A Tree Song by Rudyard Kipling
- Dead Musicians by Siegfried Sassoon
- In The Valley Of The Elwy poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Ring Of Grass by Shel Silverstein
- Messalina poem – Alfred Austin
- Михаил Ломоносов – Надпись 3 к статуе Петра Великого
- The Lament Of The Old Nurse
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).
