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Thursday, August 1, 2013

Wide Brimmed Camouflage Stetson Cowboy Hat

A foul wind blew in from the South
Bringing the stench of the bog
Of dead and rotting things
And, of more importance, taking my hat

The Stetson that my father had given me
Was now flying on the wind like a spinning UFO from a low budget movie
Looking for it's own Area 51 to set down in
Going deeper into the forest accelerating all the way

As it went it became more obscure
The camouflage pattern on the wool fabric blending in with the surroundings
With only the silver buckle on the headband strap flickering in the dimming light as it flew
Until even that had faded from view

I ventured after it
Following it's flight path ever deeper
Soon spying a hat shaped lump
But finding only a rotten log covered in moss

It wouldn't be that easy
This Stetson was one with it's surroundings
With no telling how far it had gone
Before flight had finally failed forcing it's grounding

With the sun setting
I investigated every vague hat shape I saw
Finding next a bee's nest
Full of angry don't bother me bees

Next stumbling upon the odd shaped leafy home of a family of squirrels
Who chittered and chided me for interrupting their supper
Chasing me away in hatless shame
Now unsure if I was still following the path my hat had taken

I'd like to say that next I met a bear
Who had put my hat upon it's head
Instantly becoming a forest celebrity
Full of Stetson cowboy hat confidence

Or that it was hanging upon the stub branch of a tree
Waiting for me to pick it up
After a visit to the forest barber
Who insisted that I take off the hat for the trim

But it seemed to be gone
Never to be seen again
Just one of the many hazards
Of a wide brimmed camouflage Stetson cowboy hat