The old straw hat,

wide brimmed,

sweat band now madras

with shades of navy and yellow,

head-dress for a gentle man,

who fished for trout on the Battenkill.

The old wool sweater, brown

and shaped to fit your ghost

still keeping me company,

in that small town you loved,

warmth for a caring man

who fished for trout on the Battenkill.

Wallet and keys, picked up

one cold day at the hospital,

personal effects, a life line,

treasures of your daily existence

that could not tell it all...our bond unseen,

with me now, driving along the Battenkill.

12/11/2004

Posted on 12/12/2004
Copyright © 2026 Jane E Pearce