I will post a poem a day even if it is bad. Thank you for reading my poems.

She said, I haven't worn a hat for 95yrs..
that's a long time to not wear a hat,”
I heard…
When I asked her about that one…
What a sentence, I thought,
So striking..For some reason…
Unlike what society thinks of her weathered skin, for some reason.

She tells me too…
Her joints hurt her from working so many days
The pain, real evidence of intangible views,
We call value…but what’s that…
She says, we’re pots calling the kettle black…

I listen to her, more than I’m supposed to..
I know so because her words sound profound…

Spoken poetry slips out of her 95yr. old mouth
I catch it, hold it within my two hands, and smile.

Never hidden by the shade of a floppy
I imagine her in sunlight.