My Mother Worries About My Hat
Every spring my mother says I should buy a straw
hat so I won't overheat in summer.
I always agree but the valley's soon cold, and besides
my old Borsalino is nearly rain-proof.
She's at it again, it's August, the grapes are sugaring.
I say, Okay, and pluck a little spider from her hair—
hair so fine it can't hold even one of her grandmother's
tortoise shell combs.
hat so I won't overheat in summer.
I always agree but the valley's soon cold, and besides
my old Borsalino is nearly rain-proof.
She's at it again, it's August, the grapes are sugaring.
I say, Okay, and pluck a little spider from her hair—
hair so fine it can't hold even one of her grandmother's
tortoise shell combs.
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We do not accept unsolicited submissions. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.
Poem copyright ©2015 by Richard Jarrette, “My Mother Worries About My Hat,” from A Hundred Million Years of Nectar Dances, (Green Writers Press, 2015).