Tweed Cap

Your tweed cap
perched every so properly
on a tall, perfectly oval head
reached out to me tonight
amidst a sea of people it appeared
and instantly I thought it must be
you
I was sure it was
for who else wears a brown tweed cap
even in the spring?
for a moment the thought of you made
me smile and made me nervous all at
once
a second, maybe a millisecond later
I remembered
you crossed over
and the only place for me to see you
is in dreams or photographs
a moment later a lump entered my
throat
and a wave of nausea swept over me
I hadn’t realized I missed you
until now, until now that you’re gone
and I cannot smell your grandpa skin
or feel your itchy, beige wool cardigan
or see your caps, your tweed caps
except in a sea of people
who can never be
you.

-Heather Strang

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