You forget your hat

even though it’s snowing outside.

I watch you leave through

the vapour of early morning

ground caffeine fixes.

I hear you stamp your feet

on the step by the door,

then the crunch

of snow covered gravel.

You might return,

ears pink from the cold

and the smell of outside air

permeating your clothes.

I hope not,

it’s quite nice just having

a hat for company.

it doesn’t talk back

or irritate me with

early morning habits.

If I squint at

just the right angle,

I can imagine

that there is another man

beneath the shapeless overcoat

that hangs upon the peg.

He wears your hat

far more stylishly,

just tilted back on his head.

I know if he were really here,

this figure, this Adonis

of my imagination,

then he would clear gutters

and sweep the leaves and snow,

creating a path of springtime,

just for me to walk upon.

My reverie is broken

as letters fall to the floor,

my coffee lies still and cold

and the warmth I felt

has vanished

with the closing of the door.

I take your hat

and with a flick of wrist

it hangs James Bond style

above a child’s coat

of painted yellow daisies.

© EMF05