An Umbrella

An Umbrella

Something said,
“Leave the Umbrella.”

But, “It’s pouring.”

Again, “Leave the Umbrella.”

Who said that?

Clicking the button,
the sails folded in upon
It leaned itself
into the wall.

An umbrella cannot speak?!

Stepping out,
I glanced back.
No, I was not turned into 
a pillar of salt.

My right foot
was in a puddle.
Makes perfect sense
an umbrella would NOT 
have allowed this 
present situation
to dry-out.

The left foot,
not particularly cued
into the puddle its pal was in,
unknowingly ‘plunged in.’

Heavy drops of rain
began to wash over me.
My ‘soles’ were soaked,
why not my Soul?

I stepped from the 
pool I was in,
and I heard this

It was a pleasant
The ‘waters’ in my shoes
drenched my shirt,
my pants,
my hair, my—


became a song!

I began to dance.

Now something said,
“Get the Umbrella.”

“What, NOW?”
For Whaaaaa…

But, I got it.
I reached for the
umbrella…No, I did not
open its drape.
Instead, we clung to
each other.

We danced.
My sails opened
and the umbrella laughed.

“Don’t you love a rainy day?”

Still believe umbrellas don’t talk?

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