The Blue Hat

By WYATT TOWNLEY

The forecast was wrong.
The bald guy smiling
but wrong. The blonde
with swinging hair

wrong. Their software,
their reading of currents. Rain,
they said, rain for days.

We wore the wrong shoes,
postponed the garden,
the walk in the woods.
Overhead: blue—and red
tailed hawks make their arcs;
sun and wind cross
in a tango of shadows.

The forecast was wrong.
And that prognosis?
The doctor sat down.
We had the chat.

Now lose the umbrella
for the big blue hat.

 

[Purchase Issue 12 here.]

Wyatt Townley is a recovering dancer (now yoga teacher) and the former Poet Laureate of Kansas (2013-15). Her poems have been read by Garrison Keillor on NPR, featured in Ted Kooser’s syndicated column, and published in journals including The Paris Review, North American Review, Prairie Schooner, and The Yale Review. Her books of poetry include The Breathing Field, Perfectly Normal, and The Afterlives of Trees.

Megan DoThe Blue Hat

Related Posts

"De Puerto Rico: Un Ano Despues de la Tormenta"

Poems from Puerto Rico: Mara Pastor

MARA PASTOR
Navels end sometimes. / Before that happens, / the body draws a road… / to the place of areolae / where you will calm your hunger. / Origin of anthill / of white light that from me / will return to you to teach us / that a navel ends / when another is / about to begin.

Tom Paine

Bovine

TOM PAINE
I magnified the spine through a glass of water. Exquisite. I gingerly set the little spine aside on a plate, took another tentative bite of sardines, and while wondering whether you ever feel we made a mistake, felt a tiny spine adrift on my tongue. I shattered it under bovine molars ...

Nathalie Handal

Resurrection

NATHALIE HANDAL
“Why do you keep moving? / Because I’ve been given no other choice… / With what do you cross borders? / A notebook, a hat, a picture of Jerusalem and a poem in Aramaic. / What do you say when they ask you where you are from? / Nothing—the pain on my face is enough."