the somber sombrero weaver

[lostNfound]

Hidden beneath a wreath of dreary curtains.
Dry curtains intricately woven together, solemnly placated within the reads and made one.
One size to fit one.
No replicas to implicate the original. The original more valuable than a thousand replicas, only an original holds emotion.
The maker empties his soul at every twist and turn of a reed, under, over. Then another is added to the sombrero until it forms its namesake.
It is not what it is without a piece of the maker.

Make me a sombrero and the sun will shine down and the wrath of its heat will be made known.
Without it, heatstroke sets and skin burns and energy us gone.

The sun is my inappropriate inaction and the sombrero is my waysayer.
If I take it off, what then.

 

[cherub]

almost I get the underline thought of this but not quite.... i liked reading it though tells a story !