Anywhere I hang my hat

His home was anywhere: some dim lit bar
Where he would stand with friends or on his own;
Or slumped in someone else's old armchair.
Anywhere he hung his hat he called his home.
Yes, that's one of his. I keep it for old times' sake.
Sometimes I take it down and try it on,
Look in the mirror: see if I can make
My face into his. I see?.and then it's gone!
The first thing he would search for was a hook
Or shelf his hat could lodge. And he would look
From time to time to check. I remember when
He said, 'A hat's a personal thing. You might lend
A coat, a shirt, perhaps a pair of socks. Never a hat.'
I never saw him in a new one. Funny that.