Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2017 04 14 Poetry, Hats April 15, 2017

And again another day has swept across the page. April the 14th to be exact, and yes, it’s one more entry time for National Poetry Month.

Through the course of my life I have taken on a host of different roles. Some good roles, some not so good roles, some more meaningful that others, but all roles that belonged to me. These days my roles seem to be quite different than at any other time in my life, and it feels as if they are roles that teach me more than any other role that’s come across my goat path.

I always have a hat on my head, except when I’m home. If I stray out of the house without one, it feels like I’m naked. Ya, my head is growing up through my hair, and I’m actually glad I wear them all the time, as they have given me a little cushion on those occasions when I duck down to meet a table, or walk into a door. I love those moments most of all.


And there you have it. A hat for every occasion is the hat for me, and I tip my hat to you all as we near the halfway mark of this wonderful month.

Have a wicked good Friday night, and Happy Easter to you all.




Is there a chance you might need a hat?
I have quite a few I could spare.
I’ve collected so many of them through the years.
They’re all hats I chose to wear.

Hats that I wore on a pitchers mound.
Hats while riding my bike.
Hats that I wore as my Chevy Chevelle,
Went screaming down the pike.

Blue hats, red hats, hats with stripes.
The ones I wore as it rained.
The hats I’d wear when I went to work,
That are now all weathered and stained.

Little league hats, Babe Ruth hats,
Hats with a Velcro strap.
Hats that I’d wear at the crack of dawn,
And some that I’d wear for a nap.

Hats with a B that was stitched on the front.
Hats with an L, or a G.
Hats that I’d wear on a hot, humid day,
And the ones that I wore out to sea.

So many hats have sat on my head,
And kept the rain off my face.
A thousand perhaps, or maybe more.
It’s hard for me to keep pace.

The day I first held my grandson Jack.
The day that I first met my wife.
The day when my vision left me for good,
And I started the rest of my life.

I’d love to hear them tell their tales.
I’d love for them all to know,
That I was right there with them for all those years,
As the young boy continued to grow.

Are you sure you don’t need a hat?


One Response to “2017 04 14 Poetry, Hats”

  1. Logan Says:

    This site was… how do I say it? Relevant!! Finally I have found something
    which helped me. Many thanks!

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