J.F. KADLEC
On this day he wears
the old man’s faded blue cap,
Honor thy Father.
to the small poem and the quiet voice within
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Here’s the rest of it:
“Ah, but the head that it covered
and the wrinkles it shaded,
and the rare smile that showed
broken teeth, were all in safe-keeping.
Now he has become the father I’ve always
wanted him to be —–privately.”
Phil Hansotia.
Wish I had the cap,
I would wear it all day long,
Except he took it.
Along with the comments…poignant.
I like to smell the sweatband of an old
hat of mine and I have great memories
of my grandfather who died in 1947.
He wore one of those old blue caps.
Thirty years ago my old man hung his fishing cap on the coat rack in the cabin, after a night out on the lake catching bass. He passed away before he could return for another weekend. The cap is still there…