Poem for the Day: The Fascinator

The Fascinator

I am at the Rec centre
listening to Eye of the Tiger,
the woofers and tweaks
from a broadcasting screen
of the Melbourne Cup.

I am also wearing a flowered hat
fashioned from a dewy morning. Three roses
& the absurdity of a polka dot crown
that becomes a curious millinery piece.

We are twenty five women talking above
the call of the race. Mostly, we know
nothing about horses, but do know songs
like Soda Pop, Williams' & Bublé's
jazzy tune we exercise to.

I could not predict the fortune carved into today.
I did not read the signs of Scorpio or Mercury
finished with its retrograde. How could
I know I would win a Melbourne Cup sweep,
have a great birthday surprise or win the award
for my Fascinator. Homemade. I could not.