I’ve been eating popcorn
out of my hat.
It was a freebie that I picked up
at the Gower town fair.
The hat advertises the
centennial anniversary of some local bank
that I’d not heard of until that day.
It was a hot day.
The sun was brutal,
trying to beat us down.
(Pops, the boys, & I.)
We’d walked the perimeter
of the park,
the town square,
in our efforts to see what was what.
We eventually settled on some
kettle corn,
a couple of BBQ
sandwiches apiece.
We’d brought
gas-station fountain drinks
with us;
sneaked ‘em right on in.
My sons found the rides
straightaway.
They spent about $20 of
mine and my own father’s
money.
They masked up,
were cautiously carefree;
stopping for squirts
of sanitizer between
swings, bounces, and bumps.
Pops and I
found a bench
away from everyone else.
I’d gotten him a hat too.
We used them to shield
our heads, our eyes
for the afternoon.
Today,
mine’s an impromptu,
improvised popcorn
bowl.
I’d lined it with a couple
of unfolded brown paper napkins
first;
proud of my ingenuity.
As I poured my first
cap full,
I could almost hear
my wife’s chiding
words.
I chuckled to myself
and
didn’t write them down.
I wrote these instead,
while I munched another
handful of popcorn
from my hat.
***
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications 2020
Aug 17, 2020
Aug 17, 2020 at 8:11 PM UTC
I’ve been eating popcorn
out of my hat.
It was a freebie that I picked up
at the Gower town fair.
The hat advertises the
centennial anniversary of some local bank
that I’d not heard of until that day.
It was a hot day.
The sun was brutal,
trying to beat us down.
(Pops, the boys, & I.)
We’d walked the perimeter
of the park,
the town square,
in our efforts to see what was what.
We eventually settled on some
kettle corn,
a couple of BBQ
sandwiches apiece.
We’d brought
gas-station fountain drinks
with us;
sneaked ‘em right on in.
My sons found the rides
straightaway.
They spent about $20 of
mine and my own father’s
money.
They masked up,
were cautiously carefree;
stopping for squirts
of sanitizer between
swings, bounces, and bumps.
Pops and I
found a bench
away from everyone else.
I’d gotten him a hat too.
We used them to shield
our heads, our eyes
for the afternoon.
Today,
mine’s an impromptu,
improvised popcorn
bowl.
I’d lined it with a couple
of unfolded brown paper napkins
first;
proud of my ingenuity.
As I poured my first
cap full,
I could almost hear
my wife’s chiding
words.
I chuckled to myself
and
didn’t write them down.
I wrote these instead,
while I munched another
handful of popcorn
from my hat.
***
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications 2020
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