Green Umbrella
Dearstluv Writer
I press my nose against
the moist window pane
staring out at light rain drops
splattering the cement walk.
So slowly move the gray-tinted
clouds in the light spring breeze.
Just a small hint of blue beckons
beyond the fading darkness.
We walked in days like this…
Remember?
Grabbing the faded, old, green
umbrella, with the broken latch,
You’d speak of romantic stories
and of walking in the liquid rain.
Close to your shoulder
You’d hug me,
Keeping us, so close, beneath
that little canopied shelter.
And we’d boldly step
into the path
of the wet droplets
so gently falling.
For the moment,
we were secured
under our green stick tent,
and in each other’s arms.
I miss you on showery days like this.
I want to stomp out there in the puddles.
See our reflection in their pools.
Grab again, the old umbrella.
And walk lovingly, once more,
in the rain.
Previously published in rez magazine.
Leave a comment