The clouds darken above a thousand umbrellas
Blocking the early sun that rises a deep red
A drop of rain sinks toward the ground
And a boy opens his mouth and lifts his head
But before he can catch it, his mother tugs him away
Down the busy street he stumbles after the sound of her heels clapping against wet stone
Her hand the only thing keeping him from falling into the fray
Her, the only thing keeping him from becoming lost and alone
Years later the boy has grown
He walks the street surrounded by a thousand rain-splattered umbrellas, yet he is all alone
A brief case at his side, a tie around his neck, meaningless noise flitting in and out of his head
He crosses the road and turns to the left
Suddenly a sound penetrates the barrier in his mind
The sound of heels clapping against wet stone
His head swivels up, around, forward, behind
Until his eyes rest upon a little girl, lifting her mouth to the sky
A raindrop falls past her lips and a grin warms her face
But then her mother grabs her hand and pulls her down the street
His eyes cling to the mother’s shoes, the stiletto sound sharp on the ground, every step placed with perfect grace
A sad smile tugs at the corners of his mouth
The boy stands unmoving on the sidewalk and says silently to himself,
“A thousand drops of rain for a thousand umbrellas.
“A thousand slabs of cement for a thousand heels to clap against.
“But just one me, for just one old and broken memory.”
Then he lifts his head to the sky
With tears in eyes,
He smiles a watery goodbye.
Then continues, on into the dreary morning light.