Last week I bought a straw hat
with two little red roses
on its brim.
It reminded me
of Grandma’s flowers
by the side
of her house.
I loved her.
I wore it until someone,
a very pretty someone,
pointed at it and laughed.
I felt its nostalgic power wane
and an awkwardness
take its place.
I decided to wear it
only to church.
No one would dare
to point fingers there.