A Tattered Hat

This ragged hat with tatters front and rear has eyes that cannot see and on its mouth no lips glisten. I found it in a cabin in the spring of ‘68. It cannot say so I surmise - a hobo left it there next to his gin bottle. He got it from a banker gentlemen for cleaning out his garbage cans. A tailor nearly took it home for his but settled on a derby. Once it fell into the lake and I saved it from a weedy death. I hope its next companion realizes how benign a world it is has not yet cast this hat aside.