Hat

  My old green hat sits hanging on it’s hook patiently awaiting our day of task and toil in the sun. Faded olive drab, a bent and warped wrap around bill to shade pink ears and tender skin.  I have been thinking about a cooler sexy item I see in a catalog of khaki pants, snake boots and vests with pockets for fishing gear. It has a larger bill, a deeper fold and a wonderful golden tan. 

  My old hat still waits for me. Around it’s waist creeps a deep salty stain of sweat locked deep within the weave of it’s fabric. Ideas were formed within, in each thread can be found a problem solved, a task completed, victories large and small. It whispers to me “ I am here for you always, let’s go work together…I know all of your secrets”.

   I finish my coffee, set down the magazine, tie my boots and walk out the back door. We have each other.