—Poems and Photos by Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA
HAT IN THE WIND
(after “The Death of the Hat”
by Billy Collins, Picnic, Lightning)
Hat in the wind lifts like a laugh,
dances itself away, while you chase it.
Hats have a whim of their own;
they will rest for years where you put them—
not inclined to anything;
then ‘poof’ some wind reminds them
of what they are—head-toys, playthings,
curious about the sky.
Sometimes you win,
retrieve them with a scold or embarrassment
from a puddle, or a tree—
or maybe lose them to that sky
that lifts them from
the old decorum you pretend.
WOMAN DAY-DREAMING
A woman
in a white apron
and a hat to shade her from the sun
sits in the day’s warm light,
hands in her lap, palms down,
mind-drifting to a place
that takes her from herself.
And the day shuts down.
Her work is waiting—
it waits behind her in a long field;
her work is waiting
in a house full of windows
that glaze their eyes
in the day’s warm silence
and also seem to forget
her work is waiting.
IN LINE
Enter the swaggering man with his dark suit
and hat,
and his cane,
one hand on the railing
at the edge of a crowd of pressing people
in line . . . in line for what . . . ? . . .
He stands with his weight on one hip against
the gray wall—off to the side—
way off to the side
of everyone.
He seems so fragile, standing there,
this delicate man with such a swaggering manner.
__________________
RANDOM
Here is a lady in a gold hat
with one lock of hair down her face
standing in a ray of darkness
watching those who disappear
from her, as she disappears to herself.
Still, her gold hat shines
in the gold-struck eyes of one
who admires her—follows her home.
THE APPOINTMENT
She is unfinished. Not even her hat suits her.
She cannot find the right expression for her face.
She’s lost her keys and her purse, misplaced her list.
Her eyes assume a glaze; her stare protects her.
She waits in the waiting room as she is told.
The white background of the room overpowers her.
She lets herself become enveloped without protest.
She cannot make out the vagueness of her mind.
It feels like a curtain has slipped around her.
Soft. Diffusive. Safe.
___________________
HER BEDROOM
closet full of dusty clothes
silver-veined dresses
squashed party wear
stained lace and fur
unwashables
a leopard coat and hat
coat-pin
some jewels missing
high-heels lined up
behind the slippers
on the dresser a jewel box
and perfume bottles
all shoved back
and in the grimy mirror
in diligent reflection,
in rows and rows,
white plastic vials
of prescriptions
(first pub. in Philadelphia Poets, 1988)
THE BROTHERS AND THE OTHERS
Rough, from the hills,
saw-chiseled,
hiding out as knots of wood,
their hats and beards
all pulling from the world,
their eyes grown dark and closing
as they hang in slanted shadows
in a pose of ancient longing,
how they clanly, dimly,
whisper to the walls . . .
how they clan
and dimly whisper
to the walls.
SOLSTICE
It was the annual day again when Aunt Winter came
to stay for her afternoon with us, and sat like an old
gray frown—precarious and prim—on the edge of a
chair in her hat and gloves, and sipped our welcome-
tea, and asked the polite and distant questions in her
old-aunt voice, and said, “No, thank you,” to the
cookies.
We inward-smiled at her stiff, old-fashioned ways.
Quaint was the word we gave her, and never cared
to ask about the occasion of her visit—always on
time with the calendar—and why she glanced
around at all of us with such an almost-smile, and
did not remove her hat and gloves to “… stay awhile
for news…” though she stayed all afternoon.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
ILLUSTRATION OF A HAT BY MARTHA COLLOT
(Le Parfum de la Rose, 1924 by A. E. Marty)
Red rose reaching toward red lips,
shy eyes closing as she bends
to sniff the rose;
is this
to illustrate her yellow hat,
or to scandalize the kiss . . .
____________________
Thanks to Joyce Odam for her surprising takes on hats, our ekphrastic Seed of the Week! Our new Seed of the Week is Quicksand, either literally or figuratively: bad jobs, bad marriage, bad cruise ship… Send your poems, photos & artwork about this (or any other) subject to kathykieth@hotmail.com. No deadline on SOWs, though, and for a peek at our past ones, click on “Calliope’s Closet”, the link at the top of this column, for plenty of others to choose from.
Poetry Off-the-Shelves meets tonight in El Dorado Hills at the library on Silva Valley Pkwy., 5pm. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about this and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
—Medusa
Bill Gainer, Grass Valley Poet/SnakePal
—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis, CA, from
—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis, CA, from
the "Poets in Hats" series
Katy says, “Gotta Love Poets in Hats!!”
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
