the man stopped us
with a creased palm
framing his face
was a floppy
hat battered
ageless the
kind of hat you’d
find on the titanic
worn by bilge pumpers
as they fought with
panic rising – wet
the color of a blackened sea
this man, this
relic of olden times,
cracked
a toothy smile wished
us a good morning
I like the description you have here, almost the whole poem is about his hat and it's really interesting how you went about describing it! I was kinda confused at the end, because of the blank line, I thought at first that it wasn't connected to the poem until I read it.
ReplyDeleteThe poem is evocative, and my favourite part of it is easily your use of line-breaks to create a pause. Reading it out loud makes it sound like I can't catch my breath. Dang.
ReplyDelete