When I am old, I am old
with little time left.
With little time left, with no red hat.
So I must make the most of it,
with no sad feelings.

Once again, and once again,
I call myself
for there is no one else—
I am not twins.
And so I think of nothing.
while I rock and feel the wind.

Fred Babbin

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-red-hat/