There are so many hats with roots in the garden and then there's a poem
SHE LOVES HATS
Wide brimmed with,
without flowers and
visors and baseball
caps or most perfect
of all: the umbrella.
as she sallies forthinto the night-sky.
(from Intentions/collaboration with Susan Gangel)
And breakfast was a showy hat of bread, goat cheese, cinammon & strawberries. No hat was worn in the eating of.