Ode to a Hat - Ladd Holroyd

[Larry Robinson]

Ode to a Hat

  
It was down in the hold of the ship:

 

I crocheted in the half light

of crew arguments and the stomach-bending 

pitch of the vessel,

While far away my mother wondered if I still loved her.

 

It was calico--and I realize now I must have borrowed the yarn

(after all, I didn't board with any--thank you, Angela!).

And its birth insulated me from where I was,

And from whom I had been.

 

Afterwards, I did mail it to her...my mother. 

Then, much later, it appeared in photographs:

Scenes of her spending her mornings 

studying Chinese or piano or some such--

those cold Northern California days, half-lit.

Always that special covering, though rarely mentioned... 

 

 

Well...

 

then...

 

"The Fire":

 

 

 

The fire took the hat. 

 

The fire

 

took most everything--even the piano I learned on.

 

Plus...

 

...that silly bit of spindly 

cheap poly-thread covering 

which Most likely had believed itself safe.

Yes, it did:

Safe in a box

where it had been deliberately placed so as not to be worn to death.

Safe where it might continue--as all love hopes to.

Safe, where, when the flames finally found it,

It told them it had already served a greater purpose.

Greater than all its adversaries possessed, even them.

 

Can you imagine how it spoke truth to flame?

Addressing the smoke and ash:

"I've mattered more in this world than you could ever ever possibly

Hope to.

 

I have done my work.

 

Now take me home.”

	- Ladd Holroyd