Umbrellas

Umbrella

Soft touches graze my arms

the cooling touch sinking through my shirt

the blooming of color as the first drops hit the cool pavement

a sea of color is formed as those around me hide from the wet crystals.

The first Oregon rain drenches my black shirt as I stand in the sea of moving color.

The tinkling noise of droplets on tin.

This heavan

This blissful

symphony of

rain drops

upon umbrellas

is my home.

And I would

never leave

it for the

world.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world

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