~Nikolaus Laszlo, Nora Ephron, and Delia Ephron, You’ve Got Mail
Under My Hat
Under my hat is a horse
I rode when I was ten
Under my hat is a house
Or five or six or seven.
Under my hat is a story
Half-true or true or false
Of nights of booze and poetry
Of songs and a sweet slow waltz.
Under my hat are opinions
That have made me friends or foes
When you march to insistent drums
It depends how the current flows.
I’m a hoarder, a keeper, a snail
That needs a pile to crawl under
My hat shields a regular haul
Of trivia, jetsam and plunder.
And what of the secret places
Where you and you cannot tread
The dark and the dismal traces?
They’re under the hat on my head.