I Bolster my confidence
Against







the torrential rain
with an ironic


BOLD


yellow



umbrella
under my arm.
It challenges




the black clouds:
You will not win this.





But storms are bullies.




Together the





growling thunder





sweeping wind






hard rain




Gang up and beat my poor umbrella







Down
The taught fabric whispers in my ears




as the wind tests its strength:

I’m Sorry.

I try to save it, but it has lost its will to fight.
Its wiry arms reach up
in surrender

absurdly


awkwardly


performing strange aerobatics.
I walk
my Dead umbrella by my side,
defying


the angry weather
that destroyed my friend.


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