His Fedora
my father lived under this hat
under this hat
there were other hats
that collected the sweat above his brows
a black ribbon
purr of feathers
robin gold finch woodpecker
under one
hope grew
he befriended a german
beneath another
when some thoughts twirled
dark pores opened
under the woolen brim
my mother’s chanel # 5 kissed him
the curly wisps above his ears
• • •
About the 29th Anniversary Gift Your Mother Gave Me
Perhaps if your mother had her own money
she would’ve purchased something new –
a necktie in burgundy, my favorite color,
a watch with a fine leather band. But she
selected from a box of notecards Derain’s
woodcut of Grangousier, a man with a lusty
appetite for his wife, a king with a good heart.
You are a woman with her own money,
Our little girl who, when I gave you
the chance to pick up acorns for a penny
a piece, knelt, counted to four hundred
and ninety-nine before I could stop you.
After I pulled the silk bow, unwrapped
the lavender linen from her gift, I said,
“Yes. Let me hang it in our living room.
Here near the door,” where it remained
beyond the years of your mother’s life,
of my second marriage, until I moved it
next to my bed in the nursing home.
Out of that box of cards, your Mom
could’ve chosen any rogue – the gambler,
a warrior knight or cyclops, but she chose
the man wearing a burgundy robe and
a studded leather band around his wrist.
• • •
Jacalyn Shelley has been published in such journals as Sugar House Review, Dunes Review, DASH, San Pedro River Review, Shot Glass Journal, and Pilgrimage’s Injustice and Protest Issue. In 2018 she was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. As a member of the South Jersey Poets Collective, she participates in poetry readings in Atlantic City and hosts the Leap Street Poets Workshop. To enjoy more of her poetry go to JacalynShelley.com.