Читать книгу At the Great Door of Morning - Robert Hedin - Страница 9

My Mother’s Hats

She kept them high on the top shelf,

In boxes big as drums—

Bright, crescent-shaped boats

With little fishnets dangling down—

And wore them with her best dress

To teas, coffee parties, department stores.

What a lovely catch, my father used to say,

Watching her sail off into the afternoon waters.