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