Mark Irwin Poems
- My Father's Hats Sunday mornings I would reach high into his...
- Portraits Mother came to visit today. We hadn't seen each ...
- Poem Beginning with a Line by ... "The most beautiful...
- Landscape with Horse Named Pop... The hummingbird hovers ...
- Empire He wore a little spiraled hat and wrote a song that ...
Mark Irwin is the author of six collections of poetry, two volumes of translation, and a recently completed book of essays on contemporary American poetry entitled “Monster.” His most recent book is American Urn: New & Selected Poems (1987–2011). He lives in Colorado. more »
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My Father's Hats
Sunday mornings I would reach
high into his dark closet while standing
on a chair and tiptoeing reach
higher, touching, sometimes fumbling
the soft crowns and imagine
I was in a forest, wind hymning
through pines, where the musky scent
of rain clinging to damp earth was
his scent I loved, lingering on
bands, leather, and on the inner silk
crowns where I would smell his
hair and almost think I was being
held, or climbing a tree, touching
the yellow fruit, leaves whose scent
was that of clove in the godsome
air, as ...