In her Easter bonnet

It was so very long ago.
The world was full of hats
in those far off years.
In the spring
the hat maker came to our home.
She pinned her felts and silk
to my mother’s head.
Added feathers and flowers.
My mother would be beautiful
for the Easter parade.
I still can see her lovely smile.
I tried them on when she was out.
Until my head became too big.
One hat in each box
representing one more Easter.
The hat maker came until the end.
Then when the
chemo took her flowing hair.
We sat outside of her bedroom
all of her children.
The hat lady came that year
for the last time.
She left solemn and quiet
her old eyes cast to the floor.
We all went in her bedroom
to see her last creation.
On her head a beautiful
hat with flowers and fruit
and ostrich feathers.
Her head perfectly covered.
Not even a sign of her lost hair.
And that was the last time
I saw my mother smile