Rondeau for a Father's Hat

And what am I to do with my Dad's hat?

Always a hat--he never wore a cap.
After he died, I've kept it all these years--
A little token of him, it appears--
A cloth thing under which he sat.

His body was cremated, so that's that.
To me his soul's a mystery, not a fact.
While I get old and face some stern cold fears,
What is it I'm to do with my Pa's hat?

I have been charged with being a pack-rat.
I'm sentimental, unlike our deadpan cat.
For me, things link to people, it appears,
And maybe soothe a bit some grieving tears.
"Just let it go": advice that sounds so flat
Regarding what to do with Father's hat.

Hans Ostrom 2024

Rondeau of the Sowing

Old adage says, Reap what you sow.
What have I sown? That's hard to know.
I have been selfish, that's for sure
But not, I think, cruel by nature.
Effects of how one lives are so

Untraceable. Search high, search low:
My net effect must be zero
On those, on them, on him, on her.
And who am I to say, you know?

One certain fact--I'm no hero.
Fall short. Fell short those years ago.
What's up with this accounting--why?
Self-centered guilt, I cannot lie.
Applause or boos before I go?
A useless review of the show?

hans ostrom 2022