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    Hat Saga

    By Phillis Levin,

    1 day ago
    https://img.particlenews.com/image.php?url=1mdcCk_0uHmxB6400

    Why did I choose to wear that hat?
    It was bitter cold, that’s why I wore
    The glamorous fur: it covered enough
    Of my head to render me anonymous
    (I didn’t mean to look mysterious).

    After the party we hailed a cab, happily
    Sped, warm together in the dark until,
    On an unfamiliar block, the taxi
    Stopped, not a sign or a red light in sight.
    Why did you stop? my husband said,

    As a man out of nowhere appeared,
    Like a character in a sinister plot,
    Approaching the door
    On the side of the car where I sat—
    His face swimming close to the glass

    Between us, window he knocked on
    With the knuckles of his hand, a window
    That I, too startled to do anything
    But look him in the eye,
    Began to roll down, roll down,

    When in an instant he could see
    A face he caught sight of
    In silhouette: He must have taken me
    For someone else, what sort of person,
    What kind of woman, I do not know.

    The hat, the hat, because of the hat
    He saw someone he wanted
    Or didn’t want to see, he was waiting
    For her or never wanted to see her
    Again, she had something he needed,

    A message to relay, she owed him
    Something, was there just then
    For a rendezvous, or there
    By chance, not expecting him
    To find her, and the hat, my hat,

    Was the dead giveaway
    Of her identity. If I took off my hat,
    He would have known right away
    Who I was not. All at once
    He un-saw what he had seen,

    My ignorance of who he was,
    The danger of his innocent mistake,
    Evident without a doubt (his jaw,
    A flicker around his jaw palpable).
    And he said Go,

    Releasing us into the night,
    Touching the car door
    As if breaking a spell.
    Why did you stop? said my husband,
    Once more, as soon as the cab took off.

    I thought he was an undercover cop,
    Asking me to pull over , replied the driver.
    Through streets of neon ice and snow
    We fled, until Jack and I were home,
    Safe in bed, though I, sleepless

    Beside my sleeping mate, couldn’t stop
    Wondering who he thought he saw
    Before the window rolled open
    —What did and didn’t happen
    Inside the moment between—

    Couldn’t, for the life of me,
    His face in the glass unsee.

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