THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

Chapeau Cabosse’

A shadow fell across tanned and wrinkled brows

slicing off the collection of brittle grey aged eyelash towers

towers hidden as the battered cloth above did lower cutting

shutting out the air, shutting out the light revealing

hiding the skin from view, from sight

a thin cloth of felt born ages past in molded form

now wrinkled, stained with age, ‘twas badly tattered

as was the owner wearing the sweat stained ring

it held no shame, nor any kiss of fame, no breath of love

but left in purpose a face hidden in semidarkness

closed down tight upon the tired watchful eyes

cutting off prophecy from those outside

who felt the apostle within the well-worn frame once

combed, pressed, greased captured beneath from sighted view

a mystery complex composed in the simple act

for where emptiness had been before now hid the fact

the hand withdrew and left in place a battered hat. [2.12.2016]