What Goes on in the Hall

"Standing"

Who looks
at the new straw
hat, remembering
Grandma,

how she beat
brazen rays each
day by sneaking
under a brim

like that. And who
notices the wrought
iron roses now
hung askew

on our cherry
coat rack; she
wrung pits
out of red fruit

too, swatted flies,
rolled tart sweet
flesh, juice into
crust, but that is

another story;
I am asking you
about the roses,
broken, and a

missing screw,
but you are busy
arranging tailored
black wool on

a cool hook worn
brass blue; we're
just in the hall
after all, we're just

passing through.

New poetry prompt: You guessed it. We're in the hall now. Even if you have no hall, there's a poem in that too. Please post your offering by Thursday, August 13, and leave your link here in the comment box, for possible feature and definite links at High Calling Blogs.

Brass Roses on the Rack, photo by L.L. Barkat.