Day 3: Cowboy Poetry, an Ode to my Hat

In the heat or the shade

my hat has been made

to withstand the test of time.

A hole in the brim

right through the trim

my horse's teeth left their sign.

It smells of  manure 

and my apologies to her,

who borrows it in the rain.

Saves my hide everyday,

only off when I pray,

won't find one like this again.