Rain
I saw you waiting in the cold,
a plastic bag over your head
and water dripping from your ears.
You offered to carry my umbrella;
it followed me around like a cloud
shedding on your face.
You shrugged and said
you were already wet--
but so was I. The storm
had gutted the umbrella long ago, and
I only carry it when I plan to see you.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment