Dear Busybody

I remember the title.

It was the first book

that I borrowed from

the Children’s Section

of the library.

We visited my Auntie Mary

afterwards

and she laughed

and laughed.

I didn’t know why.

I was eight years old

and it was written

for a much older child

and though I persevered

I couldn’t understand much of it.

I saw it there again years later

and borrowed it a second time.

I still couldn’t understand much,

so maybe it was me, not my age,

though I did understand by then

why Auntie Mary had laughed!

My Felt Hat

Felt hats have a long history,

back even to the Romans.

Maybe some were made in Tallinn,

fairy tale hats from a fairy tale place.

Creativity without bounds.

Such hats are made there now

and as a hat fanatic,

of course I bought one.

Once I thought the dye might run in the rain

and cause it to lose it’s crowning glory,

in woad-like streaks down my face.

But it hasn’t happened.

I thought it would fail to spring back

into it’s bowler shape when squashed.

But it hasn’t happened.

It’s still a crowning glory,

my beautiful felt hat.