My Grandma
It sat with her other odds and ends,
All violated and FOR SALE.
And there sat the brown derby among the rubble,
Hat pins secured where you had left them.
I casually glimpsed, and tears began to swell,
The tag was only 25 cents.
25 cents, I guess that's the going rate;
For hugs and fresh cookies, advice and hope,
For your life and most of all your love.
Tears flow, and they notice, "How could you? It's grandma's hat."
They stare so blankly,
They don't understand...it's your hat, it's YOU.
Coldly they place it in my hand,
And now the brim has lost its shape, due to unrelenting tears.
Terri Blake
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