observations 2

she wears a teepee on her head.
i mean it sits there like it is giving birth to her.
like it is pushing her out of itself.
large.
shapeless.
woolen.
she looks like a hobbit from a vision of the shire conceived by Tim Burton.
wrong.
she looks wrong.
less of a gamgee and more a gammy.
not a baggins but a bag end.
a very bad end.
the hat doesn't fit her but she fits it.
it owns her. she wades and wallows beneath its lofty weave.
the dog being wagged by the tail.
she seems very proud to be the lamp stand to the resplendent shade as she shuffles to her seat with innocent feet.
and even the breeze outside the bus seems to hush its rush to a whisper as if to confer with the tyrants of trees the idiosyncrasy of milliner fashion.
they concur with me.
that ain’t no hat, it’s a bin liner.