Death of an Umbrella…
Splayed out on the street,
Handle sticking straight up,
As if waiting its next person to shelter,
Fabric scattered helter skelter…
Life too short,
A gust of wind did rip it for sport,
No longer able to shelter its owner,
Its handle sticking up to the sky,
Much like that of post-pubescent boner…
No sorrow for its passing,
Its pain deep inside its handle amassing,
No one to keep dry, wet on both sides,
Each cars exhaust gives it a gassing…
© ed ~ 8/13/05
very nice
Love Tinka
purchased to fit your hands Ed.
How will Ruf stay dry, oh under the camper...
OR..... that was your umbrella and we are all, now, witness to its passing.
Nice eulogy... lovely piece. sniff... katy xox