Flaunting my way through
the hat store, I find one
that seems to fit well-
price is right, style and shade
flatter my shape, match my eyes-
and so pulling out plastic
I trade numbers for fabric,
march out the door with
head held high under
wide brim and leather.
Then rain drops,
new hat doomed
from first fitting.
So back to the hat store I go,
sift through berets and fedoras,
pom-poms and feathers, seeking
something outside my ordinary,
a fairy tale to dream under-
some distant world where I can be
superhero, adventuress, conqueror-
anything to replace that boring old
piece of cloth on my closet shelf,
the hat with my name on it.
As always, comments and critiques are welcome and requested!
Kickoff punts adrenaline
through my living room
on Sunday afternoons-
now cheering, now hushed,
every moment a battle,
skill and determination
rush against fumbles and flails,
uniforms empty-handed in the dirt,
hopes prostrate on crumbling turf,
one team’s win intercepted
by that day’s rising champions.
For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh… Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Romans 7:18, 24-25)
bares its ugly claws
snarls with rancid breath
deformity itself, absence of good-
but in Him I have new life, new clothes
gone are my deformities, washed away
freed to find goodness, considered just,
not of my own self but in His perfection-
and so His purity cleanses my impurity
beauty eclipses my damaged soul
virtue annuls my guiltiness
in Him alone.