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Thursday, June 9, 2011

#160 Hank's Hat


The afternoon sun warmly shining
Hank Aaron runs the bases
After hitting another home run
Waving his hat happily
As he rounds third
He lets it fly
Into the hands of a young boy
In the third row

Leaving the stadium that day
His prize clutched in his little hands
He puts the Hat on
Swearing to never take it off
And for about a week
He almost does just that
Only taking it off for showers
And church
All his friends amazed at his luck

After that week
He wears the Hat
But not as often
And keeps it on a special shelf
Above his bed
Until one day
When he wears it downtown
Setting it down on the seat on the subway
That boy leaves it behind
Not realizing it’s gone
Until he emerges into the sunlight
Now far too late to get it back

The Hat
Rides the subway for a few stops
Before a farmer from Poughkeepsie
Sits down, and sees it there
He had forgotten his hat at home that day
So he adopted this one
Even though he wasn’t a Braves fan
Wearing it home to his farm
The Hat soon becomes his favorite
Riding high on his head
As he drives the tractor
And takes care of his animals

Until his wife got him a new straw hat
And the Hat, was set aside
Migrating to the bottom of his closet
And eventually
Out to the barn

Used briefly on the brow
Of a county fair prize winning sow
Making many people smile
Then just as quickly
Set aside again
Falling to the floor
Making it’s way to the corner of the barn
Near an old set of overalls
Destined to be the outfit
Of a new scarecrow

The coveralls got stuffed with hay
The Hat lighted upon a burlap head
Sewn tightly on, to defy the wind, and birds

So with the sun shining down upon it’s brim
The Hat reached the end of it’s days
Seeing several seasons of duty
High up a pole
Upon that scarecrow’s head
Until the weather had it’s way
And turned it to shreds


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