He was saved,
lifted at the last moment
away from that dreaded corner waste basket
to live on a bit
until given rest.
Worn, battered oilskin
held together I sometimes think
only by my will and residual smoke
that permeates his failing form,
barely holding cohesion.
That old hat,
it holds many dear memories
and some I'd much rather leave behind
but that isn't my way,
or Santayana's advice.
You must learn,
from mistakes one has made,
and this tattered covering for my head
traveled those paths with me
as I wandered.
So, he remains
to someday take up residence
in a case like some memento mori,
to remind in future days
where I walked.
Taking care now,
to keep him at hand
for that day, hopefully not far off,
when that yet crafted container
can hold him...
safe from further harm,
able to remind me,
once I was homeless.
6January2014 - Dyfedd Rex, relieved his traveling companion was not 86'd by friends with good intentions.
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