Battered, sweat-marked,
evaporated on top
and aged to fit
the head it shades,
protects from UV rays
and spiders abseiling
from boughs above.

Adorned with that leaf
collected from the last excursion,
dry but defiant,
struck in your plaited leather band
like a victory plume
leading you on
through city traffic,
bush, birds, beaches –

where I can always find you
questioning, smiling, puzzling,
usually laughing
underneath your hat.

May 2018