Take off Your Hat, Mr. Reverend Please

You keep asking me,
“take off your hat”,
were I to remove,
my source of cranial heat,
this thing on my head,
a green, plaid cap,
worn since I went bald,
I’m dearly afraid,
of what I’ll be called,
“You with no hair”,
“go the other way,
there is an awful glare”
Children and trees,
Mothers and bees,
Will sit, knit, and stare.

–Richard Bryant