Face Concealed Under My Hat (Revised)

I waltz into the office after lunch, brag about my
new Mafia hat which makes me look like a rich widow
– my colleagues looked askance, said Rich Widow –
you hope; I amended it to The Merry Widow – Franz
Lehar’s operetta, I can see me on stage singing,
face concealed under the brim - but receiving
less enthusiastic response from a working crowd

I hung it on a hatstand to look impressive among
silver chains, xmas decorations already finding
their way there and a white scarf with silver
glitter; going home I took it with me to look
again at the toy in my hands – not wishing my
realistic family to burst my bubble too soon,
I hid the hat, as yet a game too new

To have shattered, a dream I’ll treasure until
ready to let go of what it means to me…