Monday, January 20, 2003
Hats Comments
Rating: ★4.1
Auntie lies in the rest home with a feeding tube and a bedpan, she
weighs nothing, she fidgets and shakes, and all I can see are her
knotted hands and the carbon facets of her eyes, she was famous for her
pies and her kindness to neighbors, but if it is true that every hat
...
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12/6/2025 3:02:48 AM # 1.0.0
This is a remarkably tender poem about auntie, of the Schaparelli hats and blood-red rings. I can see her before me now. Very fine poem.